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Published at Exeler, N. H. on llie hi Mil 15[li of every month, at 50 cents per annum, payable half yearly in advance. 

V o r. u M E r 

JANUARY 15, 1844 

N U M B E R 2 

Office at No. 15 Water St.- J. L. BECKETT, Printer. 

Cy.-lW coiiiiiiunirrjionj sho' 111 be post paid or fiee.J^ 

Post niiislrrs ftre »i.tlim'i7.i'd by law to frank Iciirvs cuntaiiiini; 
luuiif y. wlit-n rtqiu-slid. 



I'll think oflhpe, when o'er the spirit steals, 

Ho|)es, such as only live in youihlul hearts ; 
When nieluicholy to ihn soul reveals, 

That Pleasure smiles a moment, and departs , 
When lircdien seems the spell which Fancy wove, 

E'"e clonds had galher'd o'er lile's idiano:ing sky, 
And /had learn'd how wild the passions roi'e; 

That they hut live a moment droop, and die; 
When sorrow's slreamleis (rum the heart sn-.h Tree, 

111 saddest liuurs '/is l/im, I'll think ui thee ! 

I'll think of lliee, while in the festal liall ; 

When all is Missf'ul. li'jhl, and joyous there; 
Each gentle smde - each look will hui recall, 

Fund iliouiilits of one niore <»enily, liri<;ht, and fair 
When snowy fimjers wake the slumh'ring stnns. 

And strains, as sweet, as seraph-lips e'er hrealh'd, 
Make the sad spirii mounl on Milhesonie win^. 

And hreak tiie shrine, with which 'till then 'twas 
sheath'd ; 

lu hours like these, when hearts are lis;hi with ?l<>e. 
And glance meets glance, 'tis then Fll" think of thee I 

I'll think ol thee, when Aiiinmn's chlllins; Wast, 

Moa'is hoarsely, 'round ihe cr iijt^v' mounlain's top ; 
When frost-kin? on each leal his lilijht has cast, 

And ri|)pn'c| fniit-ireeslrom the hranches d;op ; 
When music in the leafless wood is hush'd. 

Save the low murmur ol the silv'ry rill ; 
When How'rs are dead, which once in heauty blush'd, 

Upon the ^jrassy carpet of the hill ; 
When Mimmer's sjone, and (rost is on ihe sea, 
And verdure's dead, 'tis then I'll think of the c. 

[The Ladies' Companion. 


It ■was a brisht day tiear the close of summer 
that as I was returning from an excursion in the 
eastern country, I observed a crowd of people as- 
sembled around a small, but neat looking dwelling. 
Curiosity led tne thither when I approached the 
cottage, I learned that it was the house of mourn- 
ing. I entered, for though I love to rejoice with 
those who rejoice, I love heller far to mourn w th 
those who mourn. A deathlike silence prevailed, 
save ever and anon the deep drawn sighs from the 
relatives and friends. Presently the remains of the 
once lovely Annette were brought out; and sadly 
but calmly the procession moved along. Nearer 
ar.d still nearer they approached the grave,' the 
last common resting place of us all, wheti they 
consigned her to the lowly bed — each look their 
farewell look as they passed along. They return- 
ed to their cottage, and I accompanied them there, 
wishing to know something more of the history ol 
the deceasarJ. 1 heard that ^she was the only 
daughter of poor but respectable parents in whose 
affection she had been entwined for eighteen years. 
She had been an amiable and lovely daughter, but 
of a delicate constitution. At length her parents 
observed a change ..i her hollow voice; the sunken 
•yes, the hectic flush deepening on her cheek, told 
but too plainly that consumption, that slow but 
fatal disease, was pressing upon her vitals. No 
earthly hand could save her. Physicians were 

called, but in vain, their utmost skill was baffled 
till all hope was gone. She calmly awaited the 
summons of death, and entreated her friends net to 
vveep lor her, as what was their loss would be her 
^ain. After long months of suffering her senile 
spirit fled to the God who gave it. SucU was the 
short his ory I received concerning this young 
md a niahle daugiiier who had been plucked as a 
flower in the morn of life. I endeavoted to con- 
sole those bereaved p;. rents by reminding them ol 
the shortness of time — that ere Ion? they would he 
re united to their lovely Anneiie in that better 
world where no farewell tear is shed. I would 
h ive prolonged my visit, but business urged me 
onward and I took leave of them. Passing that 
way a few yea's after, I visited the spot where I 
left them, but ihey were not there. No kind hand 
was there to join in friendiy greeting — ^no voice to 
hid me welcome. All, all was changed. Death 
had again and again visited the family. Once, 
twice, thrice the funeral knell told of the depart- 
ure of the members of the family to that better 
world where patting \6 never known, and where 
ihe intercourse of affection will never be changed. 

D. A. 

For the Garland. 

In one of the loveliest parts of the beautiful val- 
ley of the Connecticut, was situated, the estate ol 
Mr. Sheroofe. A lawn some ten acres in extent, 
and studded with every variety of forest trees, 
surrounded the dwellings, while through its nume- 
rous openings, the graceful windings of that beau- 
tiful river were visible. It was a lovely cottage, 
around the lattices of which a rich airy foliage of 
woodbine, and flowering waxworks had been allow- 
ed to blossom and luxuriate every year, unpruned, 
and abandoned to its own profuse leafness. The dra- 
pery of leaves and flowers that clung around the 
buildings, wherever a tendril could interweave it- 
self, or a bud find room for opening, — permitted 
imly here and there a small portion of the cottage 
to he seen. 

Such was the residence of the once happy fami- 
ly of Camerion Vale. 

Mr. Sheroofe was a man of simple habitis, quiet, 
unostenialioi:s in his benevolence, and dwelling in 
ihe midst of his family, without a thought of am- 
bition, or a single desire beyond his own pleasant 

Mrs. Slieroofe was a gentle creature of a refined 
inl^clicate mind, and like her husband living on- 
ly in 'her family, withoara caie beyond. The fa- 
mily consisted of two daughters, Leonor and Ida- 
lia, and a sor<|Called Ed^jj^ ; the youngest, a black- 
eyed handsome boy, with' a gay and open counte- 
nance, and manners free almost to cerelessness, 
and who (if there was an idol) was the idpl of the 
family. - M 

Perhaps there never 'existed two char^tefS more 
widely opposite, or more entirely diss:i»ijar than 

those ol Idalia and her sister I.eonor. Idalia was 
of a gentle, yielding temper just formed to love and 
be loved. Leonor was of a stern nature, self-will- 
ed, and almost imperious. 

From the earliest period of their infancy, iheir 
joys and sorrows had been one, their thoughts as 
the sun-dial to each other, and their mutual confi- 
dence and love had never been darkened by the 
fickle jealousies of childhood, Idalia when I first 
knew her, was just of that ase when beauty was 
budded into its maturity; with a figure almost fai- 
ry-like in its proportions, a complexion of that daz- 
zling vk'hiieness which the sliuhtest color would 
spoil, eyes ol the deepest blue, and a profu- 
sion of that pale brown hair, whiidi was always 
neatly laid back from her while forehead, widely 
differing from her sister, who possessed the full 
black eye, rosy cheek and robust frame. 

Fortune beamed on the heppy family with sun- 
ny rays lor a season, but a cloud gathered, and ere 
long darkness and sorrow o'ershadowed them. — 
Disease visited tliem, and death found the way lo 
their cottage. The father first fell, and was laid 
in the vault of the iamily tomb. 

Mis. Sheroofe neither wept nor mourned when 
she saw the beloved of her youth laid beside the 
colfins of his anceelors, for she saw him not as 
dead, but as gone 'to a happier world, whiiher sh« 
hoped ere long lo follow him ; nor did the hone in 
vain ; a short lime after, she too was laid in th.e si- 
lent vault, beside him she loved, and her spirit 
soucht his in heaven. 

The children were now left without a friend to 
guide them in the path of duty. Fully did thef 
leel their loss. 

But not long did they alone mourn a father's and 
a mother's death, the (altering step, and the faded 
cheek of Idalia soon told but too plainly, thatdeatk 
had wuz-Aerf /icr for his victim. Slowly and almost 
imperceptibly did she decline. Her friends marked 
her decay with sadness, but peace shone upon the 
countenance of the invalid, and when death ap- 
proached with silent steps, she stood ready to re- 
ceive his summons and obey him; an ! when the 
hour of her departure arrived she left without a 
sigh. Long did Leonor watch beside that form, 
beautiful even in death. Friends gathered around 
her and strove to preserve her from her melancho- 
ly vigils, but she heeded them not. Strangers laid 
the lifeless form of her sister in the cofSn and went 
silently away. 

Leonor looked around the apartments, gentle 
associations crowded upon her heart, and parliallr 
aroused her to a sense of her bereavement. Soon 
they conveyed the lifeless form to its last long 
home ; Leonor and Edgar stood beside the grave 
and saw the cold earth cover the remains of theic 
once lovely Idalia, and then returned to their drea- 
ry dwelling, once the abode of happiness, 
but now rendered cheerless by the vacancy left by 
those of the family circle who had beea snatched 
by death. 

The Facto rr. '^i^l's Garland. 

The remembrance of ihe past, brouglit no liap- 
pmess there. They left the home of their c\c-<i- 
hood and sought oilier scenes. Ere long we hnd 
them in one of our southern cities, Leonor residing 
with an aunt, while Edgar determined on seeking 
pleasure in a foreign land. 

Tiie day of his departure is at hand— the last 
farewell is hurriedly spoken, he is soon aboaul the 
noble vessel, its sails are spread to the breeze, and 
he is borne rapidly away from his native land. A 
long time did he spread abroad, yet not forgetful of 
the sister he had left. 

Frequently did he send home letters, and 'at 
length he wrote of his speedy return. 

Anxiously did Leonor watch each sail that hove 
in sight. Soon the welcome day arrives, and the 
brother and sister are in each other's embrace. But 
a stranger is with him, — the mystery is to b« solv- 
ed. Who is she ? She is the wife of Edgar. 
While vis'ling he became acquainted with this 
lovely being,— acquaintance increased to friend- 
ship, friendship to love, and he bears her away 
from the home of her childhood, to his own native 

And now is the once loved home of their child- 
hood eagerly sought, and iliough neglect hung 
around it, and the wild briar and nettle had made 
its garden their home, it was soon restored to 
all its former beauty. And thither Edgar and his 
young wife, together with Leonor, removed. 

Fortune again smiled on the spot, — pleasure 
shone around, and once again there was known, a 
happy family of Camerion Vale. 


Prom the Neichuryport Walchtower. 

Far in the East, in tiie "clime of the sun," 
where the bslmy zephyrs breathed gentle whispers 
of love among tiie orange groves, r.r sighed amid 
the vines of the ivy, there grew a lovely and ten- 
der flower. It had sprung up in a bairen and de- 
sert place, surrounded by noxious herbs and weeds, 
but still it bloomed on, beautiful in the midst of de- 
solation, and seemed an emblem to tell how per- 
fect ntai/ be the works of God's hand, even in a mo- 
ral wilderness of sin. 

There came a wind ol destruction across the 
plain. Foul pestilence sal upon its wings, and the 
poison ol death and devastation was in its breath. 
The sound o( its coming reached that flower, and 
for a moment it trembled with fear, and its heart 
was pained. But was folding its leaves upon its 
fair breast, it looked up, with a sweet smile of con- 
fidence, to its father, the Sun feared not. The sun 
spread over his protec'ing mantle of golden light, 
the wind passed by, and that flower was uninjured 
by its deadly breath. That night, as it looke'd up 
with tears of dew glittering like bright gems upon 
its cheek, it seemed rnore lovely for having had its 
sweetness and beauty for a moment hid, when 
contrasted with the ruin and desolation of all 

around it. 

* • * * # 

Thus, shall it ever be with the daughter of inno- 
cence and purity '. When falsehood shall breathe 
upon her, when foul calumny shall vomit forth its 
tales, wiien the vials of slander shall be opened, 
and shall pour the envenomed liquid of their wrath 
opon her head, she may, for a season, be pained, 
and grow :Ack of earth. But she shall be safe, rob- 
ed in the garment of her own chastity, and looking 
up with 1.' r gye of faith to her Heavenly Father, 
shall be clad in the mantle of holiness. Then lei 
her fear no evil, but, safe in His care, and in the 
coasciousness of unsullied virtue, endure the storm. 
And when the wind shall have passed by, and the 
dark cbuds of affliction shall have fied before the 
pow<iful beams of the Son of Righteousness, her 
jDnocence shall shine forth with a brighter, purer 
li^t, for having sustained the black tempest which 
iiiAJiDEK sent lorth for her destruction. 

E X E t E R; J A' N tJ A n Y 15, 1844. 

I^-There is no situation in which a young female can be 
^placed— no place where s.o much caution, care and study is 
iUccessary, as in a Factory. It matters little, though almost 
every one has some particular choice, in which room ihey 
may be placed, the same care is necessary— she enters the 
Mill a stranger, perhaps, to all its inmates ; not one of the 
many she beholds is known to lier; and, as she must neces- 
sarily lorm acquaintances, it requires all the caution she 
possesses to make choice of those with whom she would 
wish to associate, the good and virtuous. And, again ; she 
may not only be a stranger to all who are engaged in the 
work, but to the work itself. And, as she gazes at the ma- 
chinery, and witnesses the movements of the liusy opera- 
lives, almost doubts whether she shall ever be able to be- 
come acquainted willi the (lo her) intriciite machinery,— yel 
she is cheered on, perhaps by the hope, thai ihc opportuni- 
ty for her to learn is as good as it was (or others— or, per- 
haps, by the kind words of some one, who, wishing lo cul- 
tivate her acquaintance, comes forward and endeavors to 
explain to her with what case she may learn. As she com- 
mences her work, all the energy which nature has bestow- 
ed on her is necessary, in order to give satisfaction to her 
" Overseer," who may— as loo many overssers are apt lo 
be — overbearing and tyrannical, seldom possessing half the 
patience which persons in their situations should possess. 
This is the most trying of all the scenes of factory life, and 
it is often the occasion of that '■' home-sickness" fell by 
those who are subjected lo fault-finding overseers. 

There is, we think, loo little sympathy felt by "old hands" 
towards " learners." II those who are well acquainted with 
the cares, duties and vexations of a '•' factory lile," would 
exercise towards those who enter as strangers, the kindness 
which ihey would wish bestowed upon themselves in simi- 
lar circumstances, they would remedy an evil that now ex- 
ists in toe many of our- Wills,— that of leaving strangers 
and oftentimes tiiose who are young, to form acquain- 
tances with those who are vicious, and then discarding 
them because those acquaintances were formed, 

" I pity the factory girls," said d friend lo us the other 
evening, as the tones of the bell struck our ear, and the 
snow was blowing the hardest kind against the window, 
" theirs is a hard lot." " Not so hard as you imagine," we 
answered, " Let us look at thsm." As we saw them trav- 
elling through the snow, we were almost led to recall our 
words, when the merry laugh, and the pleasant joke of the 
lively, and hurried tread of the sober, steady ones, told us 
we were right, and as we entered the boarding house, and 
saw the healthy faces, flushed with rosy hues, from_ their 
recent exertions, we thought though exposure to snow- 
storms was not among the pleasanlest things of life, yet 
there might be other situations equally, if not far more un- 
pleasant, than those of ihe factory girl ; and we were led to 
look at some of the advanliiges as well as disadvantages. 
They are independent.,slriclly so ; they labor it is true — and 
enjoy the fruits of their labor. if they wish for articles of 
dress, let them be ever so costly, they are, in most cases, 
able to obtain them by the labor of their hands. How mnch 
more lo be enjoyed — to be coveted, is the wealth earned by 
honest industry, than that enjoyed by the self-styled ladies 
of the present day, who, though they may be dressed in 
garments worth hundreds of dollars, probably never earned 
sixpence since they were born. 

What is the meaning of Gabland 7 
Wkat is the meMung of Garland at the head of you^a- 
per ? it is enquired. 

Webster gives to the word several definitions, according 
to its various significations. ^Those applicable to our pur- 
pose as illustrating its use at the head of our sheet are, 1. 
A collection of litlle printed pieces ; and we intend to pre- 
sent the ladies, who will be our patrons with a collection of 
reading matter, plain, moral, chaste, interesting, and no| 
elscwhjre surpassed. 2. It is " a wreath or chaplet made 
of branches <>r flowers-" These are frequently made for 
presents tox>ne we love ; as a child will gather and present 
a pretty bunch of flowers to her mother or some other valu- 

send abroad to their broihers ana 

mothers at home, in ihe father land. Some may smile at 
this— but we Ifnow our lair readers have not fjrgidlcn their 
dear homes and friends ; and if ihey remember and respect 
them, they can just send as a iritmie of affection this Gab- 
land, which they have g.Tlhercd among the mnnerous peri- 
odical publicalions of the present year. This word has 
other definitions, but not referring to our use of it. 

'Tis a sweet, a soul-cheering reflection to know that ho' 
ever dark, dreary and sorrowful the path of life may \ 
however burdensome its cares, that an hour of reet 
hand, when these bodies will sink into a dieamlesf 
ber. No matter where the inanimate remains ' 
whether il be a bed of gravel, or beneath the wa' 
ever restless ocean, its repose will be undistur 
quiet sluuiber the countless millions who have .y 
from the earth. Nought can awake thero my 
waves of earthly turmoil roll unheeded ov aves. 
They sleep— to be wakened only by ihr 1 Him 
who has power to say lo the dead, " Ar 

Ij'The Rural Repository, puhh -monthly at 

HudsoHj N. Y. is by far the neatest j, per we have 

seen for sometime. Il has entered upon . twenliclh vol, 
ume, is conducted with ability, and is allogeiher one ol the 
best literary papers of the day. Each iiu.r^ber is embellish- 
ed with an engraving. It is publislied liy W.m B. Stod- 
dard. Terms, on* dollar per annum ; a low price lor so 
good a paper. 

The Albany Knickerbocker says, ' the Grecian ladies count 
their age from their marriage.' We suppose, if ihf y are not 
lucky enough to get<married, they do not count their age at 

all. 0— 

Boys that have been properly reared, are men in point of 
usefulness bi sixteen ; while [hose who have been brought 
up in idle habiis are at twenty-one. 

" J^ity the Sorrows!" We know a young man in this 
neighborhood, not over thirty either, who within the last 
two years has offered his heart, hand and fortune to at 
fourteen young ladies, and been jilted by the whole of 
them. II any body'll lake him, send us word. 

The Wages of Factory Girls. The Cincinnati Atlai, 
speaking of a factory in that city for the manufacture oi cot- 
ton bagging, in which fifty-five giils and forty-five men are 
employed, says: 

" A little girl at this establishment quits work 
on Saturday at 2 o'clock, having woven iliiriv cuts 
— equal to 1530 yards — I'roni Monday morning; for 
which she was paid twenty cents per cut — being 
six dollars for less than as many days employ- 

This is a rare case, and though it may have occurred in 
Cincinnati, is not soon likely to happen in New England. 
— ^Indeed, since the present tariff of duties went into 
operation, and the n auufacturing companies have been 
declaring dividends from fifteen lo Iweniy per cent, the cry 
ol "cut doicn ."' has been heard from some of the corpora- 
lions. The girls have repeatedly ■' turned out" for the pur- 
pose of compelling their einplojers lo raise their wages, 
still we have not heard of a single instance in which they 
have been successful. It might possibly have been necesa- 
ry, though we doubt it. to reduce the wages a few years 
since ; but it is now certain that those companies who re- 
duced the wages then, ought if there is any justice about 
them, now that they receive from the Government all the 
prelection they ask, to raise the wages — and pay as high, if 
not higher prices than tbey paid before any reduction took 



In every future number of the Gabland we {shall insert 
one or more pieces of poetry either selected or original, de- 
signed purposely for insertion in Alliums. We think ihis 
will suit our readers, as it is often very difficult for an indi- 
vidual to select an article, which exactly suits her, when (b« 
is requested to write in the Album oi a valued friend. 

< > 

The Factory Girl's Garland. 

Far the Garland 

" Form few acquaintances, Abby," said an old 
aunt of mine, to me, as I was, for ibe first time, 
about to leave home. " Tliere is no evil so p;reat- 
and so often run into by young girls, as that o( 
forming too many mliinate friends." Allhongh I 
listened with patience to my good aunts sugges- 
tions, yet I iiardly thought tlieai worth much at- 
tention at tiie time. I have since learned, how- 
ever, tliat they contained more instructien than I 
was willing to give them credit for ; and have 
learned, loo, that a youn^ lady who has a large 
circle of acquaintances, and whose name is in ev- 
ery one's mouth, will seldom command the respect 
that she would, were the nun)ber of her acquain- 
tancess less, and selected with more care. A. 

W O BI A N . 


Wlien man is stricken Iiy the shaft of sorrow, 

He wails his fhle ; 
He wearies friciui'^liip's fc;ir from eve to morrow, 

With sad rlelpaie. 
When woinnn sufTers, l:eiiealh beauty's mask 

Lurk her ajixieties 
Discreet and silent o'er her usual task 

She dro|)s her eyes. 
To the deep cells nf secret meditation 

Her soul retires 
Sooner than ope her s.)ul to revelation 

Thai soul expires. [Reeve. 


An individual once said he had discovered the 
secret'of managing a wile; which was, never to re- 
cede from any steps previously taken, even though 
convinced tlipy were wrong. He spoke of it in i 
giving advice to a young man. "Well now, the 
devil must be pleased with such a sentiment. If 
followed, it will lead men to cover their sins ; and 
the bible says, "whoso covers his sins shall not 
prosper." It is is equally wrong to approve of and 
refuse to retract a sentiment, known to have been 
advanced in error. There has been much said in 
this country within the last few years past,aboui the 
papal power ; and in proof, that the above is of the 
same spirit I would adduce the following, from 
Robertson's History, a standard historical work. 
" It is a maxim of the Roman church never to 
abandon the smallest point that it has established." 

Let all females beware of such tyrants for hus- 

Of all the tender ties which the beneficent Au- 
thor of every good has ordained to sweeten life's 
journey, none, perhaps, is more efficacious than 
the love of a faithful, affectionate daughter, for her 
parents. Hers, then, is a sacred mission, and one 
of no common interest. Upon her depends much 
of the happiness of those to whom, under her Ore 
ator, she owes every thing. How, then, can she 
find it in her heart to blight, or even damp the 
hopes of her fond parents for domestic happiness- 
hopes which had their origin in their first, their 
earliest love ? Let her once consider the debt she 
owes them, and she must necessarily feel that whh 
all the fond endearments, and tender assiduities 
which she can lavish upon them, that can never 
be loo well paid. 

Th. e is no situation in which a daughter may 
be placed, where she is destitute of opportunities 
of manifesting her affectioa for her parents. It 

crowned with prosperity, their united hopes are 
naturally concentrated in her, and they will spare 
no pains to render her virtuous, lovely, and accora-i 
plished. Under such circumstances, she can man- 
ifest her affection by improving her opportunities, 
and endeavoring to become all which the hearts of 
her parents, in their most ambitious moments, can 

But in the trying hour of affliction alone, can 
the perfections of this virtue be manifested. Then, 
all the lovely trails of the character of a faithful,' 
afTectionate daughter, are caHed lortli and exhibit- 
ed. She sees those who are dearer to her than 
life, close followed by the shafts of adversity; their 
hopes crushed, their labors rendered unavailing, 
and they themselves neglected by the very circles 
in which, under other circumstances, they were 
fitted to move, and even calculated to adorn ; and 
feels that all her energies are necessary to recon- 
cile and cheer those dear ones. With a self-sacri- 
ficing s()irit, which would do honor to a patriot, 
she endeavors to lorget her own^privations, and 
robed in smiles of contentment, to find the best of 
happiness, the bliss of making others blest. At 
limes, no doubt feelings of regret, desolation, or 
wounded pride on account of her situation, come 
over her spirit, but tlse bitterness of these reflec- 
tions is S(jon mitigated by the recollection that she 
is a blessing to lender parents, to whose domestic 
happiness she contributes, and in which she can 
share ; and though she may be unnoticed and un- 
known by those whose hearts are hardened by 
prosperity, who look only at the exterior, she 
knows hers to be a satisfaction to which they are 
strangers, and which all the empty honors of the 
world cannot confer. 

Happy, thrice happy those parents who are bles- 
sed with the devotion of such a daughter. Her 
presence diffuses a spirit of joy and gladness 
throughout their otherwise lonely habitation ; and 
when the labors of the day are over, in which she 
cheerfully shares, her sacred influence braces ihe'r 
weary limbs, brightens their dim eyes, shrouds 
sorrows in forgetfulness, and lifts their hearts 
above the vanities of life. Mark the anxious ex- 
pression of her countenance, as her watchful eye 
beholds some new inroad made by time, upon the 
; loved persons of her parents. 

When age has enfeebled their once noble pow- 
ers, and nature exhausted sinks, as it were, to a 
second state of childhood, patiently she continues 
her pitying love and care. Last of all, see her like 
a guardian spirit hovering round their dying pil- 
lows, stifling the keen sensibilities of her bursting 
heart, lest she might disturb their restless slum- 
bers. How earnestly she watches each change and 
expression, as if she would anticipate their wishes 
before they were uttered. Hope dies not within 
her bosom till the last throbbing of life has become 
extinct, and their eyes are closed to open no more 
on earthly scenes. Not with the performance of 
the last sad duty, not with the consignment of fel- 
low clay to kindred eartli, does this affection with- 
er. In imagination it follows the spirit as it flies, 
and enters with it on the untried scenes of eterni- 
ty. How sacred in its eye is each memento, and 
above all the hallowed «pot which contams their 
last remains. There unseen by earthly eyes, she 
often lingers, musing on the past, while thousands 
of sad but satisfactory recollections cluster round , 

her youthful heart. Blest daughter ! The approv- 
ing smile ot ihe orphan's Friend tests on ihy filial 
attachment, and ministering spirits are commis- 
sioned to protect ihee through life, and guide thee 
at last to a haven of rest, there to share an un- 
changing, unsullied, eternal friendship with those 
whom thou didst love and honor on earth. 

[Young Lady's Friend. 


There are hopes which never lilossom, 

There are joys loo snon o'ercast — 
Smiles that light the pensive bosom, 

Srniles thai beam too light to last ; 
Transient as the summer flower, 

Fleeting as the iwilijjhl's ray, 
Joy shines out its little hour, 

Then forever lades away. 

Care m iy shroud the soul in sadness. 

Yet, despite o( present pain. 
Do we not in future gladness, 

Olt deceived sti 1 hope again 7 
Memory, in the darkest hnur, 

Liives to trace each bygone scene ; 
Thus, if joy's a fleeting hour, 

Hope is still an evergreen. 

Advice to Young Ladies. 
Don't pout fair readers, for we are not going to 
preach you a sermon. But will offer you a liitle 
advice Irom ihe pen of Addison. He says, " I 
have found that men who are really most fond of 
the society of ladies, who cherish for them a high 
respect, are seldom the most popular with the sex. 
Men of great assurance, whose tongues are lightly 
hung, who make words supply she place of ideas, 
and place compliment in the room of sentiment, 
are the favorites. A true respect for woman leads 
to respeciiul nciion toward them ; and respectful is 
usually distant action ; and this great distance is 
mistaken by them for neglect, or want of interest." 

Dand'cs with immense whiskers, and an arch of 
bristles over the mouth, says an exchange, belong 


A mother's love. 
.There is so divine a holiness in the love of a 
mother, that no matter how the tie that binds her 
to ihfi child was formed, she becomes, as it were, 
consecrated and sacred, and the past is forgotten, 
and the world and iis harsh verdicts swept away 
when that love alone is visible and the God who 
walclies over the little one sheds his smile over 
the human deputy, in whose tenderness there 
breathes his own ! [Bulwer. 

Mrs Child says, that Oie Bull, the great musician, 
ought to be called ' Bul-bul;' that being the name 
of the Persian nightingale. 


Some charitable persons recently exploring the 
regions of poverty in Louisville, found in one rook- 
ery a weak, sickly female, unable to sit, but prop- 
ped up in bed with pillows, making shirts at ten 
cents each, and taking her pay in goods from the 
store of her employer! Scenes like the above are 
not confined to Louisville. [Boston Bee, 

A Miss Capers has recovered 5000 dollars from 
one Samuel Rogers, in Pennsylvania, for breach of 
marriage promise. Samuel should not cut Ca- 
pers ! 

Curiosity becomes a vice when it is only an itch- 
ing to leara what is amiss respecting others. 

The Fact ory Girl's Garland. 


Thou Bit false, but I cannot forstet thee, 

Thy heart is no iDnger the same ; 
"Tis a weakness, but still I regret thee, 

And weep when I hear but ihy name, 
Take back (roni my hands every token, 

And be as we never hail met — 
This night my last Carewcll is spoken, 

I forgive ! and will strive to lorget. 

Tho' ihoa wear'st now the resemblance of sorrow. 

The cloud from thy brow will depart, 
No tear will he thine on the morrow, 

No sigh will escape Iroin ihy heart. 
As the storm passing over the ocean, 

Of its ravages leaves not a sign , 
So thy breast will betray no emotion, 

For the grief it hath planted in mine. 


When sorrow's cloud has dimmed my brow, 

And chased gay thoughts away, 
As through the dark and cheerless world, 

Alone 1 seem to stray. 
Then, then I lake niy timeliil harp. 

With pleasure strike each string — 
Sadness and griel tiee la"- away^ 

I'm happiest when I sing. 

The songs that in my childhood's years 

I loved the best ol all, 
Thrill through my heart with magic power 

As on my ear they fall, 
And while the sweet miles die away, 

So(t soothing tears will spr ng — 
Hope points to a far brighter day 

I'ra aappiest wlieii i sing. 

[l^ewhuryport Wakhimoer. 


There is no combination ol letters in tlie English 
language, which excites more pleasing and inter- 
esting associations in the mind of man, than liie 
word WIFE. There is a magic in this little wort!. 
It presents to the mind's eye, a cheerful comp;inion, 
a disinterested adviser, a nurse in sickness, a com- 
forter in misfortune, and a faithful and ever aflec- 
tionaie friend. It conjures up the image of a love- 
ly, lender confiding woman who carefully under- 
takes to contribute to your happiness — to partake 
with you in the cup, whether in weal or wo, which 
Destiny may offer. The word wife is synonymous 
with the greatest earthly blessino^ and we pily the 
unfortunate wight who is condemned by Fate's se- 
vere decree to trudge along through life's dull pil- 
grimage without one, 


Man, proud man, may become a voluptuary, 
ruin the character of many a poor, friendless girl, 
and no one dares to rebuke his conductor denounce 
his acquaintance. Wrnpi in a splendid rcquelauer 
— with darklv-whiskered visage and haughty bear- 
ing, he will pass among his companions for a man 
of gallantry and glorious spirit. It is lar otherwise 
with the victim of liis seduction. She has fallen, 
like a beautiful star in mid-summer, to rise no 
more ! She, poor ihir.e, finds herself an outcast, is 
driven from her beloved associates to the den ol 
pollution, and is compelled to procure the very 
bread she eats by the wages of iniquiiy. 

There is no eye to pity, no hand to save, no friend 
to commiserate in her dreadful lot— a tliick cloud 
veils the heavens, and the earth is full of terrible 
ihadows — and ^lle loo often perishes under tiie 
roof of the sorrere"-. The gay, the virtuous, and 
the happy know rmi her indescribable misery, and 
for want of some im-iel guide to a liouse of refuge, 
ibe sinks into thn '.'iili of perdition. 

Happy is he wi o i is » friend to point out to him 
perfection of iit. y, and yet to pardon him in thi 
Japfte of hii) infini. < >•■>. 


Thou'st left thy much loved childhood's home, 
And ihoughts all deep and tender come, 

Now gii-huig lip within 
Thy surcharged Heart that strives in vain 
To icll il joy IS fell, or paiii, 

To leave what thou hast been. 

The youngest and the favorite flower, 
'! Most cherished since thy naial hour," 

Around whose early vears, 
The wiilieiiiig pang and cank'rmj; care 
Have never vomu, lo baihe the liur 

And sunny cheek wiih tears. 

In after years that past will seem 
The witchery of some fairy dreain — 

And ilial fond lather's care. 
That mother's pure, angelic love, 
'I'he fairies round the f)lest that move, 

High in the upper air. 

That dream ha< passed, and now with high 
And bouirdiug hopes, ihou'.'h drawest nigh 

Another scene in li.'e ; 
Joys ihou'lt have and they'll be new, 
But cares and sorrows ihicklv too, 

III tliy new sphere are riie. 

Full nit ihoii'h miss the losi'rirg arm 
That's shicldeii liiee so olt from harm, 

Thy every want supplied ; 
And e'en beloie 'iwas halt expressed, 

The otreriuas came, so wert thou blessed 

With full afi'eclion's tide. 

But yet trust that thou mayest find 
A guardian still, and one whose kind 

And laiililiil care shall stay 
Thy trusting heari, thai it shall feel 
But liirlit llie woes tha on us steal 

Too thickly in our way. 

[Rural Repository. 

OC'^ There are now in operaiion in liie United 
Slates, over ninehundrfd Cotioii Faciories. 

[C^They who talk degradingly of vvo i en, have 
not sufficient taste to relish their excellencies, or 
purity enough to court tiieir acquaiiiiance. 

If half the time spent in preaching ag.iinst here- 
sies in DOCTRINE were spent in preaching against 
heresies in practice, the world would be saved a 
large amount of bad logic and bad manners. 

How many ways, apparently unwonliy of no- 
tice are there in '.vhich we may contribute to the 
happiness of our fellow creatures. The very act 
of saluting an inferior, has piobably an effect on 
him, superior to that of the most exhileratinij cor- 
dial. How does the man who has been suffering 
the neglect which is ordinarily the consequence ol 
poverty, or bankruptcy, or misfortune, welcome 
the friendly smile or the hearty squeeze of the 
hand! He begins to think the less despondingly of 
his circumstances — he feels that he is of some 
little consequence in society— he is inclined again 
to enlist in the activities of human life, and to en- 
gage in his various duties w ith renewed alact ity 
and rest. Let us then learn the duly of being kind 
and courteijus lo our fellow men. 

Ihe brighest jewel pertaining to a woman .is 
not worn upon hei finger, neither does it glitter 
upon her bracelets — it lies buried beneath a whole 
cargo ol silks, satins and laces; the jewel in the 
casket of her mind. 

" Whenever you hear %. young miss lecturing 
ber mother on gentility, contradicting Iier parents, 
pouting and com|)laining, whenever she canpoi 
have her own way, depend upon it she will make a 
poor coiipanion. In prospetity she will never be 
satisfiea-/-i'H. adversity she will despond and com- 
plain— in sickness she will distress herself and all j 
around her. Never choose ber for a companion." \ 

We shall receipt ,n the Garland all moneys 
received for the same. Agents, who receive monev 
should immed.aiely forward it lo us, and it shall be 
forthwith pub ishe I. 

" The empire of woman is an empire of softness, 
of address and co.nph.cency-her co.mmands are 
caresses, her menaces are tears." 

"Noihinircan be more touching than to see a 
tender female, who had been all raeeknes.s and 
dependance while trrading the prosperous path of 
life, i^uddenly rising in menial force to be the 
comforter and supporter of her husband under mis- 
lortune, abidin-with unshrinking firmness thebit- 
lerest blasts of foriinif." 


"The brightest pan oflove is its confidence. It is 
■I'^'l l>erleci, that unhesitating reliance, that inter- 
change of every idea and every feeling, thatper- 
lect community ol the heart's spcreisand the mind's 
tliouohis which binds the two beings together 
more closely, more dearly than the dearest of hu- 
•nan ties, more than die vow of passion, or the oath 
of the altar. It is that confidence, which, did we 
not deny its sway, would give to eanhlv love a per- 
manence that we find liui seldom in this world." 

A gentleman. 
Gentility IS neither in birth, manner, nor fash- 
ion, but in mind. A hish sense of honor, a de- 
termination never to take a m?an advantage of 
another, an adherence to truth, delicacy arid po- 
Iiienes.s towards those with whom you may have 
dealings, are the essential and distinguished char- 
acierislics of a gentleman. Caution— The best 
trails aiemost frequently counterfeited. 

The first step towards vice in a woman is to 
make a mysiery of actions innocent in them- 
selves ; and s!ie who is fond of disguise will 
sooner or later have reason to conceal herself., 

the bright side. 
It is well ever to look on the bright side of 
things, and still to he prepared for the worsi. 
There is no hirrn of enjoying the present, and 
viewing the future with a smile, only that we 
do not suffer misfortunes to oteriake us unpre- 

We have the promise of a good story for the 
next number from ; we hope the writer will not 

disappoint us and our readers. 

Faultless Woman. If you see half a dozen f:iult!« 
in a wo'iian, •■esi assured she has a hundred vir- 
lues to couiilerbalance them. I love your faulty, 
and fear your faultless women. When you see 
what is leimed a tauliless woman, dread her as 
you would a beautiful snake. The power of com- 
pleiely concealing the delects thut she ii.usl have 
is of Itself a serious evil. 

r-» — -— , I'ERSOiVS wishing to subscribe for the Gar* 
[If ^LAND, should be sure to subscribe to a regularly 

appoinied, authorized Agent, whuse name is lound 
published in thlsfia per. 


Dover— E. Wadleigh, No. 4 Marston's New Block. 
Great Falls— J. A. Sinilie. 
Kcnnehnnk— Chailes Dresser. 
Saco— Amos B. Keith, No- 25 
Miss Ann M. Gordon, IN 
Saccarappa— T. B. Edwards. 

Piiblisjifid at Exeter, N. H. on the 1st and 15tli of every month, at 50 cents per annum, payable half yearly in advance. 


FEBRUARY 1, 1844. 


Office at No. 15 Water st.-J. L. BECKETT, Printer. 

^All coniDiiiinii.lionj sHolIU be post paid or free.jr^) 
Post maslrrs art- ai.tlmri/.cd by law to frank letters cuiitaining 
Biiini y, wlien nqnesl d . 


I lovp In araze on happiness, 

And meet a smiling Irienrt, 
It fjivps a zest lo every charm 

TliaL hope and beauty lend. 

As !»eins I |)rize ih" joyous hearts 
Tli'it snmelimcs round me shine, 

They render lile a richer boon, 
And all its joys divine. 

I love the friends who laugh away 

The an^ry thieals of grief, 
They wake lr<Hii pain the saddest heart. 

And a.l our sorrows brief. 

The world would lose the gleams of bliss 
That every breast haih crossed, 

And every grace would uaul a charm, 
II playlul smiles were lost. — [Boilon Bee. 

IVrittun f.irlht 



Seated in a pleasant cliainber, was a young lady, 
the daughter of one of the most aristocratic mer- 
chants in New England. He had risen from ob- 
scurity, and by a course though not sirictly hones', 
yet in accordance with the practice ol some, if not 
many, of the wealihiesl merchants in the country, 
had amassed a large amount of property. With 
him WEALTH was every thing, — he knew nothing 
of happiness, save when it was considered in the 
scale of dollars and cents ; and il needed only that 
a man be wealthy, no matter by what means he 
became so, to ensure his lespect. 

His residence was but a few miles from the city 
of Boston, and it was one of the most beautiful in 
that- vicinity. No pains had been spared to make 
it worthy of notice, for Mr. Grafton was a man 
fond of praise. His youngest daughter, Maria, was 
now the only child remaining at home. Two sons, 
on whom he had placed his hopes for the perpetua- 
tion of his family natne, and on whom he had design- 
ed to bestow the greater portion of his wealth, died 
ere they had attained to manhood. Of three daugh- 
ters, two were married, leaving Maria with her 
father, who loved her next, perhaps, to his money. 

Sad were the thoughts of the fair girl, as she sat 
alone in her cliamber; but they were soon inter- 
rupted. The voice of her father summoned her to 
the parlor. "When she descended she found he was 
accompanied by a young man named Stevens, who 
had, some time previous, ofifered his hand to Maria, 
but not contented with her refusal, and knowing 
the attachment of her lather to wealth, had called 
him to his aid. Maria raised her eyes as she enter- 
ed the room, but as soon as she saw Stevens, turn- 
ed her head, and seated herself by the window.-- 
Her father addressed her, presenting Stevens, and 
informed her that it was his wish that she should 
accept of him as her future husband. Maria inform- 
ed her father that she had rejected Mr. Stevens 
once and that,evea did she love him,which she was 

very certain she did not, her own judgment taught 
her better than lo risk her happiness in his hands. 

"What do you know of love," said Mr. Graf- 
ton, and why are you unwiilinjr lo risk your happi- 
ness with him. His wealth issuffic'cnt to procure 
you every comfort, and his cliaraeier i's " 

"Infamous !" interrupted Maria, looking him full 
in the face. 

Stevens turned pale and his lip quivered with 
rage, and the anger of her father scarcely knew 
bounds. For a moment he did not answer her. — 
At length, pointing his finger at Stevens, he in- 
quired, "And what know ijou o[ his character?" 

"Enough to convince me that my words were 
true," answered Maria. 

"My daughter," said Mr. Grafton, assuming a 
milder tone, "though you niay have heard re[)orts 
unfavorable to Mr. Stevens, believe me, they are 
without foundation. He is one of the wealthiest 
men in the city." 

"He may be all that you think he is," said Maria, 
"but I cannot marry him." 

"You may go to your chambar," said her father, 
''I am determined that Henry Stevens shall De my 
son-in-law, and you must marry hiin or quit my 
iiouse. I will neither own or support an ungrate- 
ful and disobedient daughter. To-morrovv I shall 
expect your answer. 

Maria knew loo well tiie charp.cier of her father, 
to any reply. A crisis had arrived which she 
had for some days feared. She knew that her re- 
fusal ol Stevens would bringdown the wratii of her 
father on her head, and had written to both of her 
sisters, stating the circumstances, and requesting, 
in case her father should drive her from home, the 
privilege of remaining, for a short time, with them. 
Contrary to her expectations, both had refused her. 
Their husbands had married them more on account 
of the wealth of their father, than for any affection 
they had felt for them; and they feared, if they gave 
Maria a home, their father would disinherit them. 
Such is the effect wealth has on the affections. 

Maria letired to her chamber, and after giving 
vent lo a flood of tears, deliberated on what course 
to pursue. One thing was certain, she determined 
not to marry Stevens. Ihe next thing was, how 
should she obtain a living ? After thinking of the 
matter for some time, she said to herself, " Well, I 
iiave good constitution, and can labor; but how 
would it appear for the daughter of the rich Mr. 
Grafton to go about the city soliciting employment." 
This would not answer. At last she concluded that, 
rather than remain in the city, she would go to 
some village and. if possible, obtain employment. 
At this moment she recollected having heard one 
of the house-maids speak of being employed in a 
factory, and she descended to the kitchen. 

"Hannah," said she, addressing the girl, "I heard 
you, a few days since, speak of working in a facto- 
ry ; how did you like ttfisre ?" 

"0, I liked very much, Miss Maria, and should 
have remained there had my health been "good." 

"Was the work harder than your work here?" in- 
quired Maria. 

"No, ma'am, I don't think it was,but it was more 

"Will you tell me where it was?" again inquir- 
ed Maria. 

The girl gave her the required information, and 
also the name of the overseer of the room where 
she had worked, and the name of the lady with 
whom she boarded, adding, " She is the kindest 
woman I ever saw." 

The mind of Maria was now made up. She de- 
cided upon entering a factory. Another difficulty 
now presented itself. Would her father allow her 
to lake her clothing and what money she had ? — 
She determined, if he should still adhere to his 
resolution, to ask him the qnestion. 

In the morning she met her father at the break- 
fast-table. Neither spoke until the meal was fin- 
ished. At length her father inquired — 

"Well, Maria, have you concluded to marry Hen- 
ry Stevens?" 

Maria hesitated a moment, but said firmly, *' I 
have not." 

"You heard my determination last night," said 
he, I now repent il. You must marry Henry Ste- 
vens or quit my house." 

"I cannot marry him, father," said she, " sooner 
would I quit not only this house but the world." 

" Then go," said he, angrily, rising from his 

"Shall I take my clothes?" asked Maria. 

" Yes, and never let me see or hear from you 
again," said he slamming the door violently, and 
leaving her alone. 

Maria sank back in her chair and wept bitterly. 
For a moment she seemed almost inclined to com- 
ply with his wis!), but the idea that she must be 
forever linked to a villain, and suffer reproach if his 
villainies were discovered, was more than she could 
bear, and she preferred the anguish of separating 
from all her friends, free and with honor, to that 
of marrying Stevens. She hastily packed up her 
things, and in a few hours left her father's house. 

As she passed through the city of Boston, where 
her sisters resided, a desire sprang up to see them, 
but from their recent treatment she dared not visit 
thein, and site also feared again meeting her father. 

Maria was well furnished with clothing, and had 
about twenty-five dollars in money. Although she 
had been surrounded with wealth, she never, till 
now, knew the value of money. A thousand re- 
flections, doubts and fears crossed her mind as she 
was pursuing her journey to the place designated 
by the girl of whom she had enquired in her father's 
kitchen ; and though she felt sad at the thought* 
of being driven from home, she could scarce sup- 
press a smile at the awkwardness with which she 
should engage in any kind of labor. 

She at last arrived at the house of Mrs. D , 

the lady designated by Hacnah,and easily obtained 
board in her family. She also learned that Mr. 

The Factory Girl's Garland 

P , the overseer whose name she had taken, 

was ia want of help. 

It is unnecessary for us to follow the fortunes of 
Maria through their various channels. She enter- 
ed the factory — learned to work, and found many 
friends, among whom, and the only one it would 
be of interest to the reader to name, was Caroline 
Perkins, a girl about her own age. These two 
soon became intimate friends. In the factory their 
looms were next each other, and they occupied the 
s&me room at their boarding-house. They were 
ranch attached lo Mrs. D., with whom they board- 
ed, and she, in turn, evinced a deep interest in their 

About six months after Maria entered the facto- 
ry, an incident occurred which bound, if possible, 
the two friends closer to each other. One evening, 
as they were in their chamber, and Caroline was 
engaged in repacking a large trunk, Maria, who 
was looking on, was rather surprised at the amount 
of clothing and jewelry possessed by Caroline, and 
jokingly inquired if "her beau was a jeweller." 

Carol ine blushed, and after some hesitation in- 
formed Maria that her father had once been wealthy, 
but, at his death, it was ascertained that his prop- 
erty, though amply sufHcient to pay his own debts, 
would be swept away by the failure of some friends 
for whom he had endorsed notes. The creditors 
had allowed her to keep every thing given her by 
her father except her plane. She also told her that 
although she might have supported herself by mu- 
sic-teaching, she preferred working in a factory lo 
remaining among those, who, though they were 
once her intimate friends, would consider her, after 
the loss of wealth, as far below them. 

ilaria repaid Caroline by telling her own history, 
and her reasons for leaving home, and corroborated 
her story by the display of jewelry and other trink- 
ets her father had allowed her to take. 

Probably there were never two persons who en- 
joyed themselves better than these two girls. None, 
save themselves, knew their history, and as their 
natural dispositions were not arrogant, they never 
appeared to be above their fellow-laborers. For 
two years they remained together, at the end of 
which Caroline was married, and at the urgent 
request of herself and husband, Maria was induced 
to leave the factory, lor awhile at least, and take 
up her abode with them. 

One day, while Maria was engaged in perusing a 
paper which had been left at the house, her eye fell 
on a paragraph stating that "Mr Henry Stevens, 
who had always been considered a very wealthy 
merchant, was arrested and committed to piison for 
committing heavy forgeries." She handed it to 
Caroline, with a shudder, exclaiming, "as I expec- 
ted." The next paper brought intelligence that no 
doubt was entertained of his guilt ; and that Mr. 
Grafton, if not entirely ruined, would be a heavy 
loser, on account of his villanies, as he had hired of 
bim a large sum of money. For a moment Maria 
indulged the idea of immediately visiting her fa- 
ther; but after consulting with Caroline, concluded 
to write to him, which she did, begging his pardon 
for not obeying hina, and requesting him to receive 
her again to his arms, adding as a postscript, that 
she "had one hundred dollars, which she would 
.send him, if he was in want of money lo pay his 
losses by Stevens." Her father read her letter with 
feelings more of sorrow thaa aoger, but at the end 

of it broke into a hearty laugh, exclaiming. " Well, 
women are the best judges of rascals." In a few 
days he visited Maria, expressed his regret for llie 
sorrow he caused her, and requested her to return 
with liim. Maria complied with his request, and 
became once more an inmate of her early home. — 
He father endeavored by every means to make her 
happy, as an atonement for past wrongs ; and when 
about a year after she asked his consent lo her mar- 
riage with a mechanic, without wealth, he answer- 
ed, "Do as you please, Maria, I have learned to let 
every girl choose her own husband." L. 

X E T E U, K E B R U A R V I, 1844. 

My mother's voice ! I hear it now, 
1 leel her hand upon my brow, 

As when, in heart lell joy, 
She raised her evening hymn of praise. 
And called down hiessings on the days 
Ol her loved hoy. 

My mother's voice ! I hear it now, 
Her hand is on niy burning brow, 

As in that early hour, 
When lever throbbed in all .Tiy veins, 
And that kind hand first soothed niy pain, 

With healing power. 

My mother's voice ! it sounds as when 
She read to me of holy men, 

The Patriarc h's of old : 
And gazing downward in my face, 
She seemed each inlant thought to trace. 

My blue eyes told. 

It comes — when thoughts unhallowed throng 
Woven in sweet, deceptive song — 

And whispers round luy heart. 
As wnen at eve it rose on high, 
I hear and think that she is nigh, 

And they depart. 

Though round my heart all, all beside, 
The voice ot Friendship, Love, had died ; 

That voice would linger there ; 
As when, solt pillowed on her breast, 
Its tones first lulled my infant rest, 

Or, rose in prayer. 

Live Uprightly. — The poor pittance of seventy 
years is not worth being a villianfor. What mat- 
ter is it if your neighbor lies in a splendid tomb ? 
Sleep you with innocence. Look behind tlirough 
the track of time ! a vast desert lies open in re- 
trospect ; through this desert have your fathers 
journeyed ; wearied with tears and sorrows they 
sink from the walks of man. You must leave 
them where they fall, and you are logo a little fur- 
ther, where you will find eternal rest. Whatever 
you may have to encounter between the cradle and 
the grave, every moment is big with innumerable 
events which come not in succession, but bursting 
forcibly from a revolving and unknown cause, fly 
over the orb with diversified influence. — [Blair. 


Few women are aware how much they are influ- 
encing the destinies of man. Their power is be- 
yond all laws, for they confirm the m:nd of youth 
in good or evil ; while laws operate only when we 
arrive at years of accountability. "The future 
character of a child," said Napoleon, "is always 
the work ot its mother," and he delighted in recol- 
lecting that to his parent did he owe much of the 
greatness of a mind which probably grasped at too 
much, but which afterwards enabled him to bear 
years of privation and exile with fortitude and dig- 
nity. o 


To-morrow is still the fatal time when all is to 
be rectified. To-morrow comes — it goes — and still 
we please ourselves with the shadow, whilst we 
lose the reality ; unmindful that the present time 
alone is ours, the future is yet unborn, and the past 
IS dead. [Spectator. 

Truth often finds its way to the mind, close muf- 
fled in the robes of sleep, and then speaks with un- 
compromising directnes in regard lo which we 
practice an unconsCiOus self-deception in our wak- 
ing moments. 

We noticed in the Lowelf Vox Populi of January 19!h, 
thai petitions were in circulation in ihal city, praying ih« 
Legislature of Massachusetts to pass such laws as shall 
compel the Manufacturing Companie.s lo adopt ibe '• Ten 
Hour Syste."." We sincerely hope, if the Legislature hat* 
the power, that they will pass such a law. Fourteen hours 
is too long (or any persons, especially females, to labor in a 
factory. Most of those employed are young, and need more 
than ten hours relaxation from It-bor out of iwenty-four. It 
is also binding them down too much to one kind of employ- 
menl, and allowing loo little lime (or the use of the needlr. 
Were the '-Ten Hour System" adopted, the girls would be 
enabled to do their own work, and would therefore be better 
qualified for any station in after life ihey might be called to 
fill. It is a {act not to be denied, that too many ol those 
engaged in factories are so confined, that they have but lit- 
tle, if any time to perform any other work, except by depriv- 
ing themselves of rest ; and many of them, after they are 
married, are under the necessity of learning a great many 
things with which they would have become acquainted, had 
they been confined to the mill bul ten instead of fourteen 
hours. Should this Sysum be adopted in all factories, it 
would be tar better for the operatives, and equally as well 
for the companies. We hope Lowell will take the lead in 
this matter, and all other places will soon follow. 

fjT There are a class of persons in every society, who 
are always meddlers wilh ihai which does not in any way 
concern them— real busy-bodies. Scarce a day passes bul 
they have some httle story of scandal to repeat. These 
should always be avoided. They are the pest ol society- 
give them no attention— hear them not a moment. Where 
they do good in one instance, they do harm a hundred times. 

Eauly Markiaoes. Mr. Cooley, in noticing the customs 
of the present race of Egyptians, says : " It is singular how 
very young the Egyptian peasants marry. Nine or ten fer 
girls, and twelve or fifteen for boys, is considered a marri- 
ageable age."— Well, we should'nt wonder if such things 
took place among the people in this land, for it is no uncom- 
mon thing now for young gentlemen (we have no boys, aa 
they all, with a jump, go from children to men) o( fourteen 
to be in the habit of paying their constant, undivided atten- 
tion to young ladies of twelve and thirteen ; and even go so 
far, in some cases, as to ask the consent of the young ladys' 
ma's so to do ; and some instances might be named, where 
marriages have taken place at as early an age as is practic- 
ed by the Egyptians. 

US' In the choice of a wife a man should be guided more 
by his reason than his senses; and the youch who raves for 
hours, and repeats d thousand foolish things, because he baa 
been smiled upon by a pair of bright eyes, that have nothing 
to reccommend them but their Drightness, will be very apt 
to stake all his earthly happiness upon no better promis* 
than mere external beauty aflfords. 

It is a common remark that the years ^ow shorter as we 
advance in lile, and they who could once exclaim " a whole 
year!" in accents of unqualifisd alarm at its length, at last 
find themselves recurring to the same space in the carelesi 
toae of indifference, as "on/y a year." ^ 

Pleasant Hours.— Those passed in the company of vir- 
tuous and intelligent females. 

Could we but know the secret history of those we meet 
in every day life, how much of good and evil, how much 
heroism, romance, and self-devotion should we find, that in 
tale of fiction we would deem but fanciful visions of lh« 

Few men know the strength ol woman's affection, and 
that forgetfulness of an object once beloved is amone lh« 
imposaibihties of her true nature. 

The Factory Girl's O- a r 1 a n d 

A fo irnal nf Travels in E?vpt, Arnbii, Pffren, and 
ihe Holy Land, during 1841— 2, by David Millard, 
llocliester, N. V, 1843. 

We have now before ns a copy of the above work 
of 352 pages. It contains xxi chapters, with an in- 
dex and table of contents, so that the leader can read- 
ily turn 10 any part he m^y be disposed to examine. — 
It is of that peculiar character, whicli cannot fiil to 


'*lt nkesthe reader on board the ship at Boston, lands 
him at M^ltii in the Moditeranean S ^a, and gives him 
a description of that Island: gives him a voyage from 
Malta alon? the coast ot Greece, and to the renowned 
city of Alexandria in E;^y pt. Here the reader is con- 
ducted to ail the wonders of the E^Mla, and from 
thence upon the river Nile, to the regions of Goshen, 
Cairo and Mephis." 

Soon he finds himself standing on the shore of the 
Red S.=a, and crossing it, he will enter that great and 
terrible wilderness spoken of in the scriptures, through 
which Israel passed in their circuitou.s route to the 
lar.d of Canaan. He ascends Mounts Sinai and Ho- 
reb and visits many other important places. 

He then pisses through the land of Idumea— a.s- 
cends mount Hor, visits the far famed city of Petrae, 
one of the most remarkable'places in existence; for 
centuries past nothing has been known of it to the 
civilized world — but was a few years ago discovered 
by a traveller in those unknown regions. Having 
passed through the desert, inhabited only by a wild 
race of men, tie entf;rs Palestine from the South, vis- 
its Hebron, Jerusalem, and the River Jordan, Sea of 
Sodom, Nazereth, Tiberias and at Ptolemais he takes 
ship, and passing Tyre and Sidon lands at Beyroot, 
the missionary station whence he embarks for his na- 
tive America. 

We would give a more particular detail of his routf 
and decription of places, would our limits allow it, and 
if it would interest the reader. But it must be read 
to be appreciated, and it will be, if once commenced. 
We shall give extracts hereafter, that will amuse and 
instruct our readers. Some anecdotes of the charac- 
ter and treatment of females cannot fail t"* interest. 


We attended the examination at the Durham Acad- 
emy, at the close ot the fall term, and were highly 
gratified with the exercises. 

If any of our friends or patrons wish to place them- 
selves under the tuition of an accomplished instruc- 
tress, we have no hesitation in recommending to them 
Miss Bridgman the Preceptress of this Academy. 

Mr. Wright, Principal of the institution and teacher 
in the male department, will instruct in such branches 
and take such superintendance in the female depart- 
ment as will secure the greatest good to pupils, who 
avail themselves ot the advantages of the institution. 

The next term will commence on Wednesday, 
February 7th, under the charge of the present teach- 
ers, Mr. Wright and Miss Bridgman. 


For Latin, Greek and English studies, $4,00. 
For the Modern Languages, in addition, $2,00. 
For Drawing SfC. in addition, $1,00. 
For Piano Forte instruction, including the use of 
Piano Forte $10,00. 

Board can be had in good families, on reasonable 

Impure XHorcHTS. Give no entertainment to the 
beginiiigs, the first motions and secret whispers of the 
spirit of impurity. For if you totally suppress it, it 
dies ; if you permit the furnace to breathe its smoke 
and flame out of any vent, it will rage to the con- 
sumption of the whole. This cockatrice is soonest 
crushed in the shell ; but if it grows, it turns to a ser- 
pent, and a dragon, and a devil. 


" 7\7/ ffymen brought his love-delighted hour, 
Thare dweLl no jot) in Eden's rosy bower 

Nature appears to have implanted in the linmnn 
mind thitt " it is not good that the rqan should be 
alone ;" and this it would seem, did not originate 
merely in the conventionalities of society ; but was 
indelibly enirraveH upon it by the finger of nature. — 
Man is considered a social being ; and an all-wise 
Cri;ator has undoubtedly formed hiin for some go^d 
purpose, nnd lo carry out that df'Sign, to add to his 
hup, iiiess, and to mature him as a social, a moral 
and an accountable being, he deemeil it wise that 
he should have woman as a helpmate. Out of these 
considerations the insti'uiion of marriage has grown. 
The forms winch pprtain to it vary, materially, in dif- 
erent countries, and among different ecclesiastical 
bodii'S. Many nations regard it merely a temporary 
thing, whilst in chrisiian countries it is ordinarily 
considered a uiiifni only to be severed by the de- 
cease of one of the parties. 

This subject is one of vast importance ; for upon 
its judicious performance depends the mutual hap- 
piness of the parties concerned, and perspectivelv 
that of their off-ipriiig. The young, as is loo ofien 
the cnse, with minds ardent and buoyant of life and 
hope, precipitately form unions, which, with more 
irpatiire thought would never have been contracted 
The fact, that in this country, the marriage rel ition 
IS one tor life, should deter from all h.tsty action 
relative to it. It should have mature and thoughtful 
consideration. — Yes, and if this had been always 
regarilfd, how many tears of sorrow, how many bro- 
k 'u hearts, how many domestic disruptions would 
have been avoid' d! The evils of premature and has- 
ty marriiges are too faiiiiliar to need much repeti- 
tion- Notwithstanding this, we arc lully satisfied 
that their inftuence, not only upon the social re- 
lation, but U()on the gen'Tal welfare of civil society 
IS too little thought of. Many, yea, too many of 
the inmates of our penal instititiitions undotjbt''dly 
have been brought to their present situation, direct- 
ly or indirectly, fVoin the wani of proper parental 
training, and from having been brought up amid do- 
mestic broil3. 

The parties, about entering upon this ^ll-impor- 
tant relatiKin, should understand each others foibles, 
and thoroughly know each others characters : thus, 
being duly acquninted, they do not biiiully form a 1 
covenant which is to last' during life ; but are pr<'par ' 
ed to meet imperfections, with a spirit of conciliation i 
and mutual forbfarance. True, they should enter- 
lain love for each other, but this cannot last long 
without a feeling of mutual res|)ect; fir so soon as 
one is wanting in this, the warmth of affection is im- 
paired. Love, it is very true, is thought by some, to 
spring up spontaneously, and this we would not de- 
ny in toto; but to our mind, such love is generally 
of too hasty a growth ; and like the mushroom, will 
soon wilt and perish under the meridian siin of a con- 
nubial union. Jjove, permanent love, is the result of 
cultivation, and springs from a regard for the virtues 
and good qualities of the object of adoration. It is 
no more like the ephemerial stuff usually christened 
love, than noonday is to midnight. The one will last 
as long as the eternal hills: the other is but the crea- 
ture of to-day — a mere gossamer- To the happiness 
of this relation a proper and chastened spirit of love 
should be cultivated, and this cannot exist without 
purity and virtue. 

We have been led lo these reflections bv taking a 
view of the importance of the marriage institution to 
the general well-being of civil society. No man can 
too tully appreciate il, who has the welfare of his 
country at heart. Upon its sanctity, depends in a 
measure the permanancy of our institutions. Blot it 
out — and vice and immorality would stalk abroad at 
noon day. Blot it out — and you pull down one of the 
main pillars of our religion. Blot it out— and as 
surely as moral depravity and wickedness will work a 
nalioa'P ruin, so surely shall we fall from our high 
exaltation, into a state of degradation and savagism. 
How vast and apparent the difference in the condition 
of those countries, whore this institution is lightly 
regarded and polygamy tolerated, and where its rites 
are considered holy and inviolable, and the christian 
doctrine of monogamy is entertained! lu the one, we 
find Ignorance and superstition, virtue degraded, un- 
bridled licentiousness, and sanguinary and tyrannical 
laws; in the other the lights of science and civiliza- 
tion have cast their benignant rays^ and virtue and 
morality are cherished, and a humane jurisprudence 
exists. In the one, man is depressed and down-tiod- 
den, and in the other, his spirit soars upward, and 
freedom and human rights are understood and duly i 
fostered. History and experience prove all this i and 

they are the only true guides to direct Ui in our 
course through this life. 

Let those, then, who are about entering upon this 
state act honestly, openly and understandingly . before 
they immutably link each other's fortunes together ; 
and thus one great cause of human woe will be erad- 
icated, and in its stead, one of the purest sources of 
earthly bliss, wedded life, will assume its proper dig- 
nity and importance. Where is the man that would 
de.secrate an institution wliich the all-wise Being, 
and the very ccm.stitution of our nature has establish- 
ed ? Let the monster be cast without the pale of hu- 
man society. [Rural Repository. 



Thy page is pure as yet — so be thy life ; 

And through the storms of time may they remain 
Thus pure ; thy hook unsullied with a stain. 
Thy heart still free from passion's mad'ning strife ! 

Yet, if the hope thus breathed for thee he vain. 
If life's young barque must meet a stormy sea, 

Toss'd on the waves ot doubt and grief and pain, 
Fear at the prow, and wreck its destiny ; 
May the sweet hope that softens sorrow's power, 

Cheer thee and strengthen ! Be the Comforter 
Be,=ide thee in the dark and perilous hour ; 

Teach ihee that surer pathway to prefer, 
Whicti storms invade not, where wild waters cease, 
And skies, forever calm, still smite in hallowing peace. 

Femalk Labor This subject is engaging the at- 
tention of the press thoughout the country. We hop« 
It will be continued alive until justice is done to la- 
boring females who have, thus far, been scandaloi'sly 
treated. It is, indeed, strange to hear men boast ot 
their gallaiitry and vie with each other in the expresf- 
sion of their respect for the fair sex, while they would 
willinnrly sponge from them all the comforts and ne- 
cessaries of life. Surely, this is an age of humbug 
and empty profession, and we hope the sex will see 
who ACTS right toward them, and not listen to the 


Catching a Bachelor. " Why don't you get 
married ?" said a young lady, the other day, to a rath- 
er elderly bHclielor friend. 

1 have bt-en trying for the last ten years to find 
some one who would be silly enough to have me," 
was the happy reuly. 

" I guess you havn't been up our way," was the in- 
sinuating rejoinder. 

Just so — To find out one who has passed through 
life without sorrow, you must find one incapable of 
love or hatred, of hope or fear; one that hath no 
memory of the past, and no thought of the future ; 
one that hath no sympaihy, and no feeling in common 
with the rest of his species. 

Life is not all a darkened picture— 'tis only tkose 
who look through the stained glass of a distempered 
imagination, who do not see its lights, shades and bril- 
liant colorings. 

" When in middle life man peers into the future, 
what frightful shadows haunt him. Coming events 
magnified to giants by the obscurity around, stock 
iTienacingly forward. Dangers threatens him at ev 
ery step, and there is naught beyond but the black 
back ground— Death. The heavens shed no light on 
the future. He is descending the hill of life, and 
their glories are fading behind him. He strives to 
borrow from the past, a gleam to guide him onward, 
but in vain ! Too often his own ambition has promp- 
ted him to choose the lofty path that now condemns 
him to redoubled darkness. Yet although these spec- 
tres of the gloom are most frequently mere creatures 
of the brain, which daylight would dispel, they gov- 
ern his career, and cover him with dread. The dream 
is truth to him, and It is only <ru</i itself that he es- 
teems a «freor?i.' Why can he not wait for sunrise! 
Then should he see even the grave overhung with 
the verdure of spring, and death arrayed in all the 
glory of a morn ot promise." 

A Mistake Corrected. An orator holding forth 
in favor of " woman, dear, divine woman," concluded 
thus;— "Oh, my tiearers, depend upon it, nothing 
beats a good wife." I beg your pardon,', replied one 
of his auditors, " a bad husband does." 

The Factory Girl's Garland 

To part from all we love or all we like — 

To bid adieu to those whom lime ei^dears. 
Doth CD the feelings of the liosoni strike, 

And opes the channel to the flow of tears. 
To sajr "larewell" to those who through long years 

Hare been companions of our youth's gay bloom, 
Is as the sun-beam when it disappears — 

Casting around a melancholy gloom — 

Or like th' expiring taper glim'ring o'er a tomb. 

It is a painful feeling none can know ; 

Heart-rending throbs that none can e'er eipresi. 
Save ihost who've (eli that bitterness ol wo — 

That madness of the mind — the soul's distress. 
When mmgling tear with tear, in fond caress 

We breathe the sad farewell — no tongue can speak 
So eloquent as sighs — no language dress 

True ujrrow in her garb — words are liut weak, 

Behold the streaming eye and lily-whiten'd cheek '. 

[Olive Branch. 

F\-om the Sew York Suyiday Mercury. 



In the contemplation of the various beauties of 
Nature, evnrywiiere sc^iltered in profusion, we may 
derive exalted pleasure. Let us recline upon ilie 
summit of a lofty hill, anA view ilie verdant fields 
spread out before us in the distance, and waich ilie 
sparkling sirean; as it ripples along the vallev be 
neath, and be lulled to rest by the gentle breeze of 
evening and the c:irols of the bright plumed choris- 
ters ere their blithe songs are hushed in the still- 
ness of night ; or stray through the vast forest, and 
note the tall and waving iress, whose aspiring tops 
seem to court ilie clouds, and we will be wrapt in 

Can there be a higher reflection, short of Deitv? 
Yes! it is Woman! When wc contemplaie her 
beauty and grace, the waving trees andspnikling 
waters cease to clinim. She, 'the last, best gift of 
God,' draws forth all our sympathies, and imbue> 
tis with a just npprecialion of her gentle nature. 
In adversity, whut do we riot owe to lier? Her voice 
is heard in soothing tones allaying our sorrows; 
and pointing us to the bright star of Hope, she bids 
us lay aside the ini.ntle of Despair, and indulge the 
anticipation of a more happy Future. In prosper- 
ity, our joys are heightened by her pariicipntion, 
forminga reciprocal happiness, wb.ich, though often 
realized, can never be adequately described. Her 
blaud and afleciionate smiles toui-h our inmost 
heart, and convey to us the assurance of her faith 
and love. Eveiy circumstance tending to exalt our 
feelings and our ihoughts. causes her lo fpel the 
same emotions, and to anticipate wiih cheerfulness 
otir many wants. 

Life, when tempered with such a companion, is 
indeed a happy pilgrimage to a bright existence. — 
Who can look with cold indifference upon her per- 
lections ? Who can imagine any sentiment more 
aublime an I gratifying than the thoughts connected 
with that being who ;-o forcibly reminds us of the 
happiness and purity of a fuiure stale ? Woman, 
religion, virtue — these are synonymous. In her pe- 
culiar sphere she is a goddess, ruling with predom- 
inanlsway — a guiding star shining with preemi- 
nent lustre ! 

Grace of motion, refinement of thought, and pu- 
rity of expression combine to render woman the ob- 
ject of our warmest affections, of our closest ties ; 
and dark indeed must be the soul whose recesses 
the light of her love cannot penetrate. Without 
her, life were a dre iry waste, a labrinih of wo; 
she renders it an Elysium. 

This is a picture (faint and imper.''ect, it is true) 
of woman— not as fashion and romance make her, 
but of woman in htr purity. 

True, but Odd. Modesty to the female character 
is Willi salipeire is to beef: while it preserves its pu- 
rity, it imparls a biush. 

KBir.>Tj-Hip. The water that flows from a spring 
doei not ciii'g-eal in the winter. And those spniimenis 
of frieiid-liip w.ii;h flow from the heart, cannot be 
raozE.N by adversity. 


Fashion rules (he world ; and a most tyrannical 
■ nisiress she is — compelling people lo submit to ilie 
most inconvenient things imaginable, lor fashion's 
sake. She pinches our feet vviili tight slioes, or 
chokes us with a tight neck-handkerclne!, or squee- 
zes the breath out of our body by tight lacing; A\f 
makes people sit up by night when tliey ought to 
he in bed, and keeps them in bed in the moriiinj> 
when tb.ey ought lo be up and a doing. She makes 
It vulgar lo wait upon one's sell, and geiileel to 
live idle and useless. She is a despot of ihe 
highest grade, full of intrigue and cunning, and 
yet husbands, fathers, wives, and ir.oihers, sons, 
daughters, and servants, black and while volunia- 
"•ily have become her obedient servants and slaves, 
and vie with one another to see who thall be most 


And of course the girls have a proscriptive right 
to do all the courting. Young men nte to stay 
It home, practise all " the preity ways" they can, 
provide themselves with fans, learn lo blush, (the 
2raceless rogues; we fear this will be the hardcsl 
task) and make as much bustie as possible u beli- 
ever they expect a visit. If the girU don't thin oH' 
the number of old bachelors this year, it is entirely 
their own fault. — [Bee. 

Memory is like the painter or the sunset — its im- 
ages appear more real than the substantial thitigs 
ihey piciure, and glance the richer as the bloom of 
oblivion gathers around them. 

If a man's true nature may be supposed to he 
known lo any one, it is to his wife. He may put 
on a smooth face before his be^t friend, he may 
write and speak virtuous sentiments to the f)ublic, 
and follow the career of a flaming patriot or a meek 
saint, hut the woman on whom be has conferred 
with his name the right of being with him contin- 
ually, will be able to tell pretty near how mailers 
really are. I do not say that because a wife abu- 
ses her husband, and calls liin> names he musi ne- 
cessarily be a rascal ; but, as a general rule, the 
parlner of his woes and joys, has belter opportuni- 
ties of knowing the man, than almost an) one else. 


Perhaps a more just or beautiful compliment was 
never paid to woman, than the following from Judye 
Story. " To the honor, the eternal honor ol the 
sex, be It said, that in ihe path of duty, no sacrifice 
is with ihem too high or too dear. Notliing is with 
iliem im|)ossible, but to shrink from what honor, 
innocence and religion rtquire. The voice of' 
pleasure or of power tnay pass by unheeded — but 
the voice of affliction, never. The chamber of the 
sick, the jiillow of the dyins, the vigils of 
the dead, the altars of religion, never missed ihe 
presence or the sympaihies of woman. Timid 
though she be, and so delicaje that the winds of 
heaven may not too roughly visit her, on such oc- 
casions she loses all sense of danger, and assumes 
a preternatural courage which knows not and fears 
not consequences. Then she displays the undaun- 
ted spirit which neither courts difliculties,nor evades 
tlietn , that resignation which neither utters tnur- 
mers nor regrets; and that patience in suffering 
which seems victoiious even over death itself." 

It has been shrewdly remarked by some one, thai 
there are lour orders of women : — the peacock, with 
whom dress is all — the magpies, wiih whom chat- 
ter is all— the turtles, with whom love is all — and 
the Paradise birds, above them all. 

Antisthenes wondered at mankind, that in buying 
an eartliern dish, they were careful to sound it lest 
it had a crack ; yet so careless in choosing .^riends 
as to lake them flawed with vice. 

T.ove or friendship treated with rudeness, must 
necessarily be converted into disgust and disdajn. 

Never condemn a person unheard, however many 
the acci»sations which maybe preferred against 
him ; every story has two ways ol bein,g lold. , 

-TO C- 


Ob! 'lis one scne ol parting h^re, 

Love's walch-word is — Farewell! 
And alirio».t starli ihe follnwiug tear, 

Ere dried the last thai lelll 
'Ti>. but to (eel th<l o ie most dear 

Is needliil to tlie bean. 
And straight a voice is mulleriiig near, 

Imperious — ye must part! 

Olt, too we doom ourselves to grieve, — 

For weallli or sjl'iry rove; 
Bui say, can wealth or glory give 

Aughl that can equal love? 
Lite is mo short thus tobrreare 

Existence nl lis spring; 
Or even fur one short hour to leave 

Those to whose hearis we cling. 

Count o'er the hours whose happy flight 

Is sfiared « ilh Ihose we love; ^ 
Like slars amid a tlormy night, 

Alas' hdw few ihey prove! 
Yel lliey conceniraie all the light 

'I'hal cheers our lot below; 
And ihiiher turns the weary sight, 

In this dark world of uoe. 

And could we live, if we believed 

The future like the pa>l ! 
Slill hope we on, though still deceived, — 

The lionr will come ai last, 
When all ihe visions fancy weaved 

Shall be liy irulh iniprcsseil ; 
And ihcy who slill in absence crieved 

Shall fie together bfest. [Easlpon Sentinel. 

Are now reaping a golden harvest -many of the mills are 
now earning the slock holders siicli ernormous profits as will 
enable the directors to divide thirty lo fifty percent the cur- 
rent year. And siill thi-ir goods are rising every day. So 
great is the demand, that not only is Ihe cloih sold as soon 
as ii goes from the loom, but orders are in lor three monlhi 
ahead ! 

Then why don't they raise the wages of iheir operatives, 
so thni ihe people of Lowell may realize some of the bene- 
fits of these good times ?" They hav'nt done il, and we fear 
they don't mean lo do It, unless driven lo il. VVe shall go 
into this matter hereafter. [Lowell VoiPopuli. 

Our subscribers in Newburvpori can obtain their 
papers, by callins at H. T. Crofoot's Newspaper 
and Periodical Office. Mr. Croloot keeps a good 
assortment of Newspapers, Periodicals, &c., and is 
constantlv receiving new publicnt ions as soon as 
ihey are issued from the press. Give him a call. 

n — —p PERSONS wishing to subscribe for the Gab 
I I f LAND, should be sure lo subscribe to a regularly 
appointed, authorized Agent, whose name is found 
publi.shed in thispaper. 

South Berwick — J. Colcord, Esq. 
^ewlluryport--H. T. Crofoot, A'o. 3, Pleasant street. 
Ainesbury. — D. Nasoii. 

Dover— E. Wadleigh, No. 4 Marsion's New Block. 

tireai Falls — 1. A. Sinilie. 

Kciiiiebnnk — Chai les Dresser. 

Saco— Amos H. Keith, No. 25 Factory Island. 

Miss Ann M. Gordon, No. 83 do. 
Saccarappa— T. B. Edwards. 


JUST rrcfivid In thf siiliscrihri n lu w -mr! vj li-tnlUt as«)rrment of 
GOODS, l> iiii; iIk- li si assoi iini in i v. r li. loir utt; nil m ilii< public, 
iiiHiM-iii i; ill p .11 1'l Silvi I-, Tr:i, T.ibl' . SuKiir .iiiil Musinid Si>i:oii»— 
E iiir:ilil, l iipiiz, Gaim i, plain and cliiistd Fun- Gulil Riurs — Fine 
Gi-lil Kiii»l>!» & urtips, Chisu r. C'anirii. Muiiniiiijr, Plniii aiul C»>nimoii 
Bi. riiis-Gnld ioiciSdit i' Piiiiil Casi s, Golil Nicklacrs Chains, 
Ui.lil & Plaitd Miiiiaiuri- Si iiing^. Cast s, A c. Also, all kii di of 
Siirll and HcM 11 iiatk. «idf & drosing C.)iiit)s, T.iolli Bi uslu s &. Tuolll 
PiiMilirs: all Kinds of Ciilueiii-, L;i> f lalir and Klonda Wairr, Milk 
iif iiiisii and Crrani iil LilUs; alvi, i.ll kinds olllair Oils, Balmof 
CiWniiiliia, and pure 0\ iMamnv (or lilt- growlli and biaiily oflhe 
liaii, ila r "iili all kinds III GiK.ds!) ki-pi in aJ>«ilr) and 
KaiR V Guilds Stui i'. Tlif ab.isc Gs'ikIs arc of llie first qiialiry and 
\v;>i-i-lnifd, and will be sold as low as can be boiit^Iii < Isrwln-n-. Ladies 
C !i and ste. U. M. Ql'IMBV. 

F> lirnaiy I, 1844. 21 Water sirrel. 

Newbunport, Amesbury & Exeter. 


LEAVES Ni vvhinypon I'or Aini sbiir), K. nsiiigton, and Eicter c»- 
.1 y M.inihi}, Wi iliusda) and I' liday, on llif ariival of the 7 1-2 
u'cliick train IVom Boston, and arrives in Exttrr in xtmn to tike 
ill,- cars C.r .Vc wnuaket, Dnrtiam and Dover, and 'he slage lor 
Stralliani, Gnenlaiid and PorlsiiMMith. - , » 

Li-avis Exut-r l iitsdav. I Imrsday and Saturday, on tbe arrival of 
ilu- first train of tars trom Pofilaiid, and tin siage from Portsmonlh, 
pissing tliroiigii ihe above named towns, and arrives iii Newbury- 
por. ill season lo laki- the cars »or Ipswich, Salrm. and Boston. 

(CT Fare from New bnr) port to txi ti r, 50 cents, lo l>o\er-l.l2 t-». 
j B.ioks kept HI the 'WiBlitngtoii Home, and ilie Mi.rrini»ck Houje 
NVwl)urvporl-an<l at the Swaniscot House Exiter. i 


Published at Exeter, N. H. on the 1st and 15th of every month, at 50 cents per annnm, payable half yearly in advance. 


FEBRUARY 15, 1844, 


A .R RROVt'N, PuMis^her and Propiietov . 

To n huiK all conui link r,titii:s alio hi be nditressrd, jxnt p M or free. 
Office at No.lSV/ater si.- J. L. BECKETT, Printer. 

Posi UKisiiTs lire ai.tiioriztil bj law to IVuiik kutrs cuiituiiiing 

Selected fov a Sail's ^^Uiinm. 

Some of our patrons may liave seen tlie following lines in 
])rinl l)tl(ne — bul iheir rare CNCcUcnco induces us lu insert 
lliein ill tins jiiipcr. Il will lie noiiccd, with a siiiijle re- 
iJtclion, that lliey are ap| ropi late l(;r any ppisun s ullunn, 
|jy iuKeiDng ilic clinsliari name of the person in wliose albuiTi 
you are wriliiig, instead ol Mary, as we have, in this copy. 

fliary, the hoon I'd ask lor thee 
VVould' tie a lile (roiTi soriow free; 
Thai every nioriiinij sun shonhl rise 
To ^'ild with l;liss thy yonthlul skits ; 
And iill thy hours he crowned wiih jny, 
Uns-ullied. pure, without alloy. 
Y el while Iwish tins wi-,h lor tliee, 
Mary, I know il cannot be ; 
This life's u sTOiiiMY sea at liest — 
And those who toss upon lis liillow 
Must olien wear an aching breast — 
iVlu.stoiten weave the itiournful willow. 

But there's a haven lor the good, 
Far, lar beyond the sloriiiy flood ; 
More jieaceful than the sunny lake, 
When no rude winds its surface break ; 
More calm than suiriiner evenings are, 
More glorious than the morning star ; 
And the filest souls who enter there, 
And iireathc that pure and heavenly air. 
Are more secure Ironi all alarms, 
Than infants in their mothers' arms. 

May this blest haven then be thine, 
And this I know can be ; 
May'st thou inherit joys divine ; 
'Tis all I ask for thee, 

IVrillcnfur l/ie 


"Well Emily, do you attend tlie party this even- 
ing," said Mary Stukely, to her rooni-niate, Emily 

"I hardly know, Mary, what to do; I think our 
invitation was rather a sullen one, and would not 
have been gtven had not Miss Sinclair feared to af- 
front us, --you, to whom I have unfolded all my 
early history, can, perhaps, advise me what is best." 

"I wish very much you would go, for a number 
of reasons, the jirinciple one, however, is, for the 
purpose of showing your skill on Miss Sinclair's 
piano. Mr Woodward, her teacher, is to be pre- 
sent, and as he is a man who can appreciate, and 
fears not to praise a good performer, I think you 
can, at least, repay Miss Sinclair for her sullen invita- 
tion. "Now don't refuse," said Mary, seeing Emi- 
ly was about to declinej"if you will not go to please 
yourself, do go to please me." 

Emily assented, and the two girls were soon em- 
ployed in preparing themselves. The party was to 
be given by the daughter of the lady with whom the 
two girls boarded, a haughty, arrogant thing, with 
nothing to recommend her except her own self-es- 
teem and impudence. She was too lazy to work, 
and her mother, who was a widow, with an income 
of but about a hundred dollars a year, had removed 

to S , for the purpose of supporting herself 

and her daughter, by keeping boarders. Lucy Sin- 
clair had, for the last three months been engaged 
in taking lessons on the piano, from Mr Wood- 
ward, and after much persuasion induced her moth- 
er t* give her consent for an evening parly ; which 

she did. One of the coudilions which she imposed home, and her voice, sweet, though melancholy 

upon her daughter, was, that all the boartiers should 
he invited. Lucy pouted a week or two, and find- 
j log that her mollier would consent on no other 
j terms, concluded to invite them. She determined, 
however, that the invitaiicn £jiven to Mary Stuke- 
ly and Emily Gray, should be such an one as they 
would not accept/ She knew that both, though 
they Were factory girls, were her superiors, not on- 
ly in personal beauty, but in every other quality 
which can render a person agreeable; tind feared, 
if they attended, she herself would be thrown in 
the shade, yet with all her knowledge of them, she 
did not once dream that they were half as accoin- 
plished as they really were. The father of Mary 
Stukely, till within a few years, had been wealthy, 
and had spared no pains to educate his daughter. — 
By a sudden reverse of fortune he had become poor, 
and Mary was under the necessity of supporting 
herself. Emily Gray had resided with an aunt, 
who, though not wealthy, was highly accomplish- 
ed not only in the useful, but in the fashionable 
branches of female education. Being an orphan, 
at the death of her aunt, she too was under the ne- 
cessity of resorting to labor for her own suriport. 
These two had become friends, and always consul- 
ted each other with as much familiarity as if they 
had been sisters. 

The party had, most of them assembled, and Lu- 
cy Sinclair was congratulating herself that her in- 
vitation had been so given that they would not ac- 
cept, and that she should be rid of their presence 
without offending her mollier, when the two enter- 
ed leaning on each other's arm .They were richly, 
and fashionably dressed; and never, perhaps, in 
their lives did they appear to better advantage.— 
They entered into conversation with the gentlemen 
of the company, with an ease and grace that supri- 
sed even themselves; and Lucy Sinclair felt vexed, 
not only with her mother, but with herself, to think 
that she had invited them. A gleam of triumph 
shot from her eye, as Mr Woodward advanced to- 
wards her and requested her to be seated at the pi- 
ano, and indulge the company with music, which 
seemed to say, "in this at least, I can excel."— 
She was however disappointed. She was but 
an indifferent player, and her voice had none of 
that peculiar sweetness of tone which touches the 
finer feelings of the lovers of music. Mr Wood- 
ward was aware of her imperfections, but did not 
know there were any others present who were ac- 
quainted with the instrument, or able to decide up- 
on the merits of the performer. While Miss Sin- 
clair was playing, Mary Stukely approached him, 
and requesting him to give Miss Gray an invitation 
to sing and play, assuring him that she was one 
who could not fail to please. Mr Woodward com- 
plied with her request, and as Miss Sinclair rose 
from her chair, handed Miss Gray into it. She was 
at first, rather diffident; but in a few moments re- 
gained her self-possession, and as she run her fin- 
gers over the keys, it reminded her of her early 

sent a thrill throu:;h ihe hearts of all who heard 
iier. Lucy Sinclair was surprised, yet her envious 
spirit would not allow iier to join in the praise, al- 
most universal, which was bestowed on Emily. — 
She felt that she had triumphed, and regreted that 
she had not treated her in a different manner. — 
She proposed other amusements, but the company, 
and particularly Mr Woodward, were so well |)lea- 
sed with the music, that she was unable to succeed. 

The company at last separated, much to the sat- 
isfaction of Lucy, who retired to her chamber with 
feelings the most unpleasant. 

She arose the next morning, made her way to the 
kitchen, and complained bitterly to her mother of 
the triumph the two girls had enjoved over her, — 
Her mother heard her patiently, and after she had 
ended, said, in a mild, yet earnest lone. 

"To me, Lucy, your jiurty has been a good les- 
son, and il should be lo yourself. You can now see 
that those whom you have pretended to despise, 
though not too proud to hiljor,are far above you, and 
I Can see that I have been in an error by permitting 
you to live in idleness. I have now determined that 
you shall maintain yourself, and to-day shall obtain 
a situation in the mill for you, which I shall ex- 
pect you to fill, and I sincerely ii0[)e that you will 
seek the acqaintance, and endeavor to emulate the 
example of Emily Gray and Mary Stukely. l. 

For the Garland. 

Numberless are the wtiys in which hap|)iness is 
sought; yet in how few, how very few is it found. 
Some look for it in the hall-room, in the halls of 
mirth, and in the gathering places of joy ; and to 
obtain it men have sought out many inventions ; 
but do they find it? disappointment answers, no. — 
Time has been spent, souls have been lost, lost for- 
ever, but happiness has not heen found. There is 
a path in which it may he ibund, 'tis to do that 
which is right, right to man, and right to God. 

Then what we have, however small it may be, 
lei it be spent in accomplishing the great object of 
our creation, — doing "ood. Then may we hope lo 
be happy ourselves, and well pleasing in the sight 
of Him who has made us, and knoweth our hearts 
altogether. Amanda. 

For the Garland. 

How many are the scenes, that lie hidden deep 
in the memory, that lime with his ruthless hand 
can never,never obliterate; and sacred, too, they are. 
Though they sometimes come unbidden lo the 
mind, I love them and 1 would not they were one 
the less. They come and bear me away from the 
present, and again I live in the past. Again I skip 
the dewy meads.and verdant lawns, away to school 
with merry companions I bend my way with heart .■ 
of joy and carelessness. 'Twas then my hours were^ 
full of happiness. How swiftly those .pleasant. . 
years have passed away. I love to look back Upfoa 

The Factory G ir I's G ar 1 an d 

them, and ihou^li I greet them with a smile. I love 
to contemplate them in soberness, and call to mind 
friends, with whom I have passed many happy 
hours of social bliss; such as have been friends in 
sunshine and in shade; within whose hearts no cold- 


This is the 4th No. of our paper, and we hardly think 
any periodical ever started has met with lielter success, or 
ness dwelt, on whose brows no cloud was ever il been lieiter received than our little sheet. We did not ex- 

seeo, but who, ere now, have gone to rest in si- 
lence. And besides it is a part of wisdom to cosn- 

pect, in so short a time, to obtain the requisite number ol 
subscribers to support our paper, yet we have received suffi- 

mune with our hearts, and so talk with our past |, encouragetnent to satisfy ourselves that such a paper 

is needed, and hope to pursue such a course as shall meet 

hours, that we miy learn frotii tlietn what they iiave 
borne lo heaven, and if so be, they have told a tale 
of guilt, we niay learn wisdom from the past, and 
mark our future lives with truth and bold upright- 
ness. Annette. 

We advise all our fair readers who have an idea ol getting 
married, to preserve the following, and persuade their hus- 
bands to read, and remember it. 

To MAKE A Good Wife Unhappy. The follow- 
in? is old but good: "?ee her as seldom as possible. 
If she is warm-hearted and cheerful in temper, or 
if, after a day's or week's absence, she meets you 
with a smiling face, and in an affectionate manner 
be sure to look coldly upon her, and answer her 
with monosyllables. If she force back her tears 
and is resolved to look cheerful, sit down and gape 
in her presence till she is fully convinced of your 
indifference. Never think you have any thing lo 
do to make her happy; but that her happiness is to 
flow from gratifying your caprices; and when she 
has done all a woman can do, be sure you do not 
appear gratified. Never lake an interest in any of 
her pursuits, and if she asks your advice, make her 
feel that she is troublesome and impertinent. If 
she attempts to rally you good humoredly, on any 
of your peculiarities, never join in the laugh, but 
frown her into silence. If she has faults, (which 
without doubt she will have, and perhaps may be 
ignorant of,) never attempt with kindness to cor- 
rect them, but continually obtrude upon her ears, 
'what a good wife Mr Smith has.' 'How happy 

the approbation and ensure the .support of the Operatives ol 
New England. We have a request to make of these who 
have subscribed, which is, that they will take their papers 
into the mills where they are employed, and olilain for us at 
least ONE subscriber, and hnnd the name to one of our a- 
gents, whose naines will be louiid on the last page of the pa- 
l)er. This can be easily done, and wiM not all who are now 
patrons, endpavor to do so? 

The following petition is from Vox Populi.of theSnd inst. 
The editor appends some judicious remarks, which we 
should he glad to insert, would our columns permit. We 
arc heartily glad there is one paper in I^owell which fears 
not lo speak out in fat or of the Operatives ; and we hope 
they will see to it that friend Varney receives their patton- 
age. We had hoped that the "Lowell Offering" would 
prove a friend to those by whom it \% pretended lobe edited; 
hut believe that instead of befriending them, it will prove 
an injury- There is no class of laboring persons however 
small who find so few public journals ready to speak in 
their favor, as the factory operatives. And it is a fact, that 
many of the papers who receive considerable support from 
that class, are more apt to censure than praise. We hope 
the factory operatives will ascertain who their true friends 
are, and lend their aid to the support of those papers who 
are ready to support them. 

Here follows the p.-tition, and we trust that the Opera- 
tives in every mill in Maine and New Hampshire, will pe- 
tition the Legislatures of these two Slates for the passage 
of ihe same law. 

To the Honorable the Senate and House of Representatives 
of the Commomecalth of Massachusetts, in General 
Court convened. 

WE whose names are liereto affixed, Operatives in the 
Manufictories, and oiher citizens of Lowell, having learned 
hy painful experience and observation that weariness of 
Mr Smith is with his wife.' 'That any man would Ij body, lassitude of mind, neglect of many of the nobler du- 
, , . , , T ) T ties of life, and a consequent disrelish for domestic, mental 

be happy with such a wife. In company never H 3,,^ ^^^.^i pu,,ujts_t4ether with a compensation illy pro- 
portioned, already to the task of the Operative, and being 
reduced in a fearful ratio,— are among the Icgilimatp results 
of the present mode of operations in the manufacturing es- 
lalilishuients in our midst, respectfully pray your Honorable 
Body so to modify all charters granted, within the limits of 
your jurisdiction, for protecting the rights, and regulating 
the duties nt Manufacturing Corporations, as to forbid the 
running ol machinery for the manufacture of yarn or cloth 
more than hours per day. 
POLITENESS. 1' In view of the temptations to Ihe abuse of authority, ari- 

1 1 sing from partial monopoly of power, we earnestly petition 
Politeness does not consist in laying down yourjj that such protection as your Honorable Body can grant, may 

knife and fork in a particular manner, nor yet in 1 ''^ "'rT'-lL'Tlf.'^fin'l '^^T^'TI '"r"' 

' ' ' I the employer, and trusting in trie wisdom und l)enevolence 

scalding your mouth by drinking out of a cup, to !' of those who legislate for the people, we confidently asli.and 

seem to know you have a wife ; treat all her re- 
marks with indifference, and be very affable and 
complaisant with every other lady. If you follow 
these directions, you may be certain of an obedient 
and heart-broken wife. 

avoid the indecorum of cooling your tea or coffee 
in a saucer- There is an anecdote of George the I 
Fourth, v/hich conveys a better idea of politeness,! 
than all that Chesterfield has written. While his! 
naajesty was yet prince of Wales, he honored a lea! 
table with his presence, where there happened to | 
be some young ladies not deeply versed in the code } 
of etiquette. Those innocent creatures, in the sim- 
plicity 6f<heir hearts, never dreamed there was any 
dire enormity in pouring their tea into their sau- 
cers to cool; a titter ran around ihe table among the 
polite guests, but the prince observing it, and the 
occasion to relieve the embarrassments of the 
youn.g ladies, he poured his own lea into his sau- 
cer. Th is is what may be called real poIiteDess. 

Constant occupation, prevents temptation and be- 
gets contentment. 

shall ever continue our petition, that no charter may hereaf 
ter be given that shall allow labor to be exccutcii for llie 
above named purposes more than ten hours per day. 

P I C - N I C . 

We intend to make our paper a kind ol Pic-nic. But as 
some of the dictionaries do not contain the word, we will 
explain it. Pic-nic means "an assembly where each person 
contributes to the entertainment." It was originally a cant 
word, and was applied to a supper or other meals, in which 
the entertainment is not provided by one alone, but each 
of the guests, furnishes his own dish. 

In a pic-nic meal, one supplies the fish, another the cake, 
another the fruit &c. &c., and all sit down and enjoy it to- 
gether. Its more general application, at this time, is to par- 
ties, who make up an entertainment for the fourth of July — 
or for an excursion lo the sea-shore, lo enjoy the pleasures 
and beauties of the sea and sea-side— and similar recrea- 
tions. During the past year, we have seen large companies 
pass in the rail-road cars, who were going to enjoy the day, 
in a Pic-nic, at the junction of the two rail-roads, in South 

Berwick, the border town of Maine. By llie defiiiiiiou afjovc 
given from Webster, you see Ihe priii-.iples of it can be ex- 
tended to social parlies, assemblies, and many other things. 

Now, while we inviie our readers lo partake of all we set 
before them, we also wish them lo conlribule to the •nter- 
tainment. We solicit from ihem communications. If voa 
will enjoy let others feast from your menial storehouses. — 
We prefer articles frem factory girls to any other source. — 
Write on any subject. Write al>out your situation — the in- 
cidents ill the life of a factory girl -advice to new comers — 
or any thing else you can : 

The Garland is your paper— designed for your benefit- - 
and at all limes open lor your iniprovemen'. 

We notice that the "January Fashion" (or Bonnets, i« 
black velvet. We are glad ol it, for no kind of bonnet look* 
half as well on a Lady in fall or winter, as one of black vel- 

Pbess on. — Never despair ; never be discouraged, howev- 
er stormy the heavens, however dark the way, however 
great the dilBculties, and repeated failures— Press o:*. 

"Life has no wretchedness equal to an uuhappy marriaee. 
It is the sepulchre of the heart, haunted by the ghost of past 
a/Teclions, and liopes forever gone by." l. e. l. 


Write on the sand when the tide is low. 
Seek the spot where the waters flow ; 
Whisper a name when the storm is heard, 
Pause that the echo may catch the word. 
If thai you wrote on the sand should last. 
If echo IS heard 'mid the tempest's blast, 
Then believe, and not till then, 
That there is truth in the vows ol men. 

Throw a rose on the breeze at morn. 
Watch at eve for the flower's return ; 
Drop in the ocean a eoldcn grain, 
Hope 'twill shine on the shore again ; 
If the rose you again behold, 
II you gaze on your grain of gold, 
Then believe, and not till then. 
That there is truth in the vows of men. 

The Sheet Anchor is the title of a neatly printed and 
well edited paper, published semi-monthly, at Boston Mass. 
by Jonathan Howe; Rev- Chakles W. Dennison, Editor 
It is "devoted to the cause of Seamen— to Virtue — to Tem- 
perance — to Humanity — to Intelligence." Its Editor has 
done much to improve the condition of the Sailor, and we 
sincerely hope the "Sheet Anchor" will receive the patron- 
age it so richly merits. Terms $1 00 per year in advance. 

From the Boston Bee. 

O! there are hours when the tried soul 
Forgets its sorrows past,— its present cares — 
And revels in the pure and beautiful ; 
When Fancy liears away our hearts, and Hope 
Unfolds her wings and soars to Heaven's gates : 
When golden mem'ries of departed years. 
And bright enjoyments of the present, join, 
And mingle with our dreams of happiness, — 
I love such dreamy hours : they are to loe 
Moments of heavenly bliss — ol holy joy — 
Of heart-felt poetry- they sweeten life, 
And elevate the soul to nobler deeds 
And loftier aspirations. h. 6. 

From the Boston Daily Bee. 

"F.-kcTOKY Girl's Garland." — We have received the 
first three numbers of a neatly printed paper, bearing the 
above title, published at Exeier, N H., semi-monthly, at 
50 cents per annum, printed by J. L. Beckett. It is admi- 
rably conducted, to judge from the specimens before us, ar.d 
we hope tliat every factory girl, and factory girl's friend, 
will contribute lo its support. 

F'rom the Neicburyporl IVatchioxecr. 

fj- We have received the first number of a neat little 
publication, entitled the Factorv Girl's Garland, print- 
ed at Exeter, N. H.. with p. ex. (please exchange) marked 
upon the wrapper. It is a very preiiy affair, and although 
our number ol exchanges is already too large, we most wil- 
lingly enter this upon " our list of friends." The Factory 
eirls ! who does not rejoice at every effort made to alleviate 
ihiir toils, and 10 sweeten the chalice of bitterness winch 
loo many of them are compelled to tsile. 

The Factory G-irl's Garland 




The heart— the lisarl! oh! let it he 

A true and boiinieojs ihiiv,' ; 
As Icinclly warm, as iiohly free, 

As eagle's nestling wiiig. 
Oh! keep it nm, like iriiser's gold, 

Shut ill from all liesirle ; 
But let its precious stores unfold, 

ti) mercy far and wide. 
The heart— the heart, that's truly blest, 

Is never all its own ; 
No ray ol glory lights the breast, 

That heals fur sell alone. 

The heart— the heart! oh' let it spare 

A sigh for other's pain ; 
The breath that sooihes a brother's care 

Is never spent in vaiii. 
And though it throb it gentlest touch, 

Or Sorrow's fainlest call, 
' Twere belter il should ache too much, 

Than never ache at all. 
The heart — the liean, that's truly blest. 

Is never all ils own ; 
No ray of glory lights the breast. 

That heals /or self alone. 

A late writer has truly and lorcibly said, in refer- 
ence to the holy union of the sexes, "Il is a fearful 
sight to see a young, confiding girl, approach tiie 
altar with one who loves to linger around the wine 
cup. He may pass unscathed through the fiery or- 
deal, and the bright hopes of the bride may ripen 
into fruition. But, fair reader, let not the splen- 
dors 01 weahh, nor the allurements of pleasure, nor 
the promised triumphs of ambition, tempt you to a 
risk 30 fraught wiih danger to all you hold dear. — 
Honest industry, joined with temperance, may 
carve a fortune, and all that ambition should covet; 
but wealth, talents and fame can never gild the 
drunkard's home, nor soothe the sorrows ot a drun-| 
kard's wife." 

Cultivation of the AFFECTroNs. — Wu hear a 
great deal of the cultivation of ihe intellect— little 
of the cultivation ol the affections. The latter is as 
important as the former ; indeed, if we regard the 
substantial happiness of man, it is more so. We 
praise those who are great:too little praise is bestow- 
ed upon those who ate only good; for, in fact, good- 
ness alone is truly worthy of exalted commenda- 

Never too old to learn. -What a foolish notion | 
this is,that when we arrive at a certain age, we are j 
to stop learning ; so that if our advantages in youth 
have been less than we could wish, it is a loss nev- 1 
er to be repaired. The truth is, it is never too late j 
lo learn, so long as we are above ground. Some ' 
of the most brilliant geniuses that have shone upon ' 
the world, ha ve commenced their education at thir- 

Ladies at Work. — Young ladies miss a figure 
when they bluslj and inake a dozen apologies to their 
male acquaintances, who happen to find them at 
the tub with a check apron on, and their sleeves 
rolled up. Cobbett fell in love with his wife when 
in this interesting condition— and no woman was 
of more service to a man. Real men— men of ster- 
ling principle— are always pleased to see tlieir fe- 
male acquaintances at work. Then never blush, 
never apologise, it found in your homespun attire,, 
stirring coffee, washing the hearth, or rinsing 
clothes. It should be your pride and glory to labor; 
for industrious habits are certainly the best recom- 
mendation you can bring to worthy young men 
who are seeking wives. Those who would sneer 

at these habits, you may depend upon it, will | 
make poor companions, for they are miserable fools 
and consummate blockheads. 

The Difference. — Let a man of standing and 
influ°i;ce commit a fault, and how soon it is over- 
looked. II he is wenlihy, the improprieties of his ' 
conduct are considered no reproiich, and he is as t 
much honored and ciressed .is ever. Let a poor j 
irian be half as guilty and he is condemned and des- 
piseJ, and it is next to an impossibility to retrieve 
his character. Such is the course of the world. 


[From Godey's Lady's Book for January.] 

As when the mission dove of old 

Skimmed with slow fight ihe spreading main, 
And ne'er his weary wings could told, 

Till welc'.nied in the ark again; 
So tossed upon the rougher waves, 

Ol human passion's restless sea, 
No haven to my soul they gave, 

Till tiiy worn heart found rest with thee. 

Like to the fruit all gilded o'er, 

Which turns to dust wiihin ihe hand, 
Or like the lake which flies before 

The traveller on the desert sand, 
The pleasures which my wild youth sought. 

Proved but a bitter cup to me, 
Yel sweet the lesson which has taught 

My weary heart to rest with thee. 

And now, when worn with daily care, 

With vexing strife for fame or gold, 
The fierce encounters men must bear, 

Which make the warmest heart grow cold. 
Thy voice, ihine eye hath magic power. 

From their dark spells loset me free; 
And glad I hail the tranquil hour 

When my worn heart finds rest with thee. 

Craz-v People.— Miss Dix, the philanthropist, 
states that among the hundreds of crazy people, 
with whom her sacred mission has brought her in- 
to companionship, she has not found one individual 
however fierce and turbulent, that could not be 
calmed by Scripture and prayer, uttered in a low 
anil gentle tone. The power of religious senti- 
ments over these shattered souls seems miraculous. 
The worship of a quiet, loving heart affects them 
like a voice from Heaven. Tearing and rending, 
yelping and stanipincr, singing and groaning, Grad- 
ually subside into silence," and ibey lall on "their 
knees, or gaze upward with clasped hands, as if 
they saw through the opening darkness a golden 
gleam from their Father's Throne of Love. 

A Miss, Miss-KissED.— An amusing incident (says 
the Washington Standard) occurred with a friend 
of ours the other day. He was expecting his moth- 
er in the evening cars from Baltimore, and like a I 
good son repaired to the depot to meet her. It was 
a dark day, and by the time the cars arrived there 
was no such thing as distinguishing the faces of 
passengers. As he entered one of the cars, a lady 
seated in a corner addressed him as "Father" — the 
voice was his mother's and the title one which she 
always gave him while at his house and among his 
children — so, without hesitation, be threw his arms 
around the lady's neck and kissed her. Just then a 
gentleman pushed him gently aside, and went thro' 
the same ceremony. This was very strange, he- 
thought, a man kissing his mother ! 

Hardly had the thought passed his mind when 
his veritable mother came forward and kissed him. 
Very much embarrassed he turned to the gentle- 
man, "Sir, I have made an egregious blunder ; but 

whose pardon shall I ask, yours or the lady's?" 

The meek reply was, "thee had better ask the la- 
dy's pardon, though T don't know which had the 
best of the bargain, thee or my daughter." 

We hold this truth to be self-evident, that the 
man who makes it his business and his delight 
To brush a wrinkle from the brow of care, 
And plant a heartfelt smile of pleasure there, 
is rnore entitled to the enviable wreath of immor- 
tality, than the despot who, at the expense of seas 
of blood, makes kings and kingdoms subservient to 
his will. But we can never look for a moment at i 

a sour, long, vinegar-visaged misanthrope without 
immediately becoming infected with the blues. — 
Nine times in ten you will find such a person bear- 
ing a stronger resemblance to a dressed skeleton, 
than lo a breathing lump of skin and bones ; his 
drink is vinegar ; his food, sour crout and pickled 
cucumber, sprinkled over with tartaric acid; and his 
bed a nest of thistles. He is a torment to himself, 
and to every one about him ; his house is deserted, 
because he is universally despised, and wherever he 
goes he is an unwelcome guest. 

Several individuals have wished, that a periodi- 
cal of this sind be commenced, and will exert them- 
selves that it be sustained. Mr. A. R. Brown has 
taken the pecuniary responsibility of its publication. 
His name appears in this number as Publisher and 
Proprietor: and from his known integrity and facili- 
ties for carrying forward an enterprise of this 
character, subscribers may confidently expect, that 
each succeeding number will be forthcoming — with- 
out fail. 

We should not here name these facts, but to settle 
it with all, that this paper is permanently establish- 
ed for all that time for which advance payment is 

The editor will devote a large portion of his lime 
to the paper, and expects to visit many of the Mills 
for the purpose of soliciting subscriptions, and ob- 
taining information. He sincerely hopes that the 
Agents and Overseers will render him assistance, 
so far as it may be consistent with their various du- 

When the prospectus and first No. of this paper 
were issued we designed to have payment from 
subscribers in advance, as all papers should. But 
to this course we found serious obstacles. Individ- 
uals had been prowling through the country obtain- 
ing subscriptions and advance pay for periodicals, 
with which they had no connection, and thus be- 
gat a distrust in the community of . all persons so- 
liciting subscriptions and requiring payment in ad- 
vance. We have therefore, given our Agents di- 
rections not to demand payment in advance, unless 
any individuals feel inclined so to pay, and if they 
do we will be much obliged to them. We shall 
expect payment for the first six months, at the end 
of that lime, and we would like it then for the whole 
of the year. 


With this number we commence giving receipts 
for this paper. We shall hereafter receipt as soon 
as the money is received. Agents who lake pay 
will forward it to us within 15 days of the time, 
they receive it, and if it is not receipted in the paper 
witliin 30 days from the time it is paid, the subscriber 
will write us by mail, informing to whom and when 
it was'paid at our expense. We are thus cautious, 
on account of the impositions that have been prac- 
tised upon other papers — and to satisfy fully ail our 

New Hampshire. 
Exeter.— M. E. Oilman, L. M Crummit, E. B. 
Palmer, M. J. Allen, M. E. Hanson, E M Bryant, E M Pol- 
lard, S Haynes, S Newell, EB Philbrick, N. Allen, D Y 
Pray, L A Wiggiii, R Colbaih, J p Pierce, 25 cts each. 
Dover. — M A Lovejoy, H Nason, 25 cts each. 
Great Palls. — L Pike, E Donovern, 25 cts each. 
Epping. — S J Prescolt, 50 cts. 

Nashua tf- Nashville. - DA Warner, L Campbell, G A 
Johnson, Sarah Rittenbush, P W Noyes, E l.und 25 cts. 
each ; J Carlton, Asa Parmer 12 1-2 each. 

Mass. Newbury Port.—L J Todd, E Burnhan, M Pease, 
M Walker, 25 cts each. 

Amesbnry Mills— O Grant, R Bartlett, S A Brown, E M 
Follansbee, 25 cts each. 

Maine. Saccarappa.—G W Partridge, 25 cts. M J Emery 
50 cts. 

The Pactory Girl's Garland 


This mill went into operation in the fall of ilie 
year 1S23, and a\iouI tiie same time ilie destruciion 
of one at Snco threw out of employ the vvliole of 
its operatives, most of whom came to this place. — 
Never shall we forget the anxiety evinced by the 
you''g men, when it was known that a hundred at 
least, of t!ie"fair maidens" from "down east," were 
to take up ihcir atjode in our village ; and when 
the stages which bore the fair strangers, drove 
through l!ie streets, every eye was strained to catch 
a glimjise of them. Curiosity was not cuiirely 
confined to the young men, liut the young ladies 
seemed anxious to know who were to be their com- 
petiiors in the race for husbands. And as they 
walked through the streets on the day after their 
arrival, it must be confessed that there was no lit- 
tle staring among the young of both sexes. And 
there were, it is true, many lovely girls among 
ibem. It seems now that we can remember mar.y 
of their smiiing laces. They were, for a time, the 
life of tlie village. But alas! 7)o;ie of them now 
remai.T here; — an entire change has come over the 
Mill, and of all the overseers and girls, who start- 
ed ii :> maciiinery, not a single one of them are here 
now. And where are they? — Married— Dead. — 
1 Leic two words comprise the whole, except per- 
haps, a very few, who may be enjoying a state of 
''single blessednes." — We remember a number, 
whose fates have been as different as different could 
be. Tliere was Ruth S , a bright eyed, high- 
spirited, whole-hesrted girl, whose merry laugh 
would resound across the water, was married — her 
husband was a drunkard, and hurried her to an ear- 
ly grave. There was Lucy P , Sarah H , 

and Caroline S , and many others whom we 

hare almost forgotten; but their places are now fill- 
ed by others, who, in their turn, will leave for dif- 
lerent, and probably, some of them for less happy 
situations i^n they now enjoy. Yet thus it is,and 
ever will be; though places and scenes may remain 
the same, the actors are, and ever will be, continu- 
ally cbaaging. 


The number ol Female? employed is aljout 200; i 
number of males 40; Yards of cloth made per week ; 
28,000 ; Bales of cotton used per week 25 ; Tons of: 
coal used per year 2o0; gallons of oil used per year 
1300; Cords of Wood per year 100. The amount j 
of the pay roll for wages iiermonth is about SI4000. ; 

The wages in the card-room are .^1,25 and 1,33' 
per week. In the spin-room the average of wages' 
is from $1,50 to 2,25 per week. In the weave-room 
from Si, 75 to 2,50. The dressers make from $2,00' 
to 3,50 per week, and warpers from $1,50 to $2,50, * 
exclusive of board. j 

The capital stock of the Company is 162,500. — 
Their mill is 180 feet in length, 50 in width, and : 
seven stories high including the basement and at- 1 
tic; and contains 5120 spindles, and 175 looms. j 
The beautiful location of the mill, and the iiealth- 
iness of the place, renders it one of the pleasantest 
situations in New England for the operatives. The 
gil ls are not compelled to board in the houses be- 
loiig'ug to the company, but are allowed the privi- 
lege of boarding where they please, "within five 
minutes walk of the mill." 

The rooms in this mill have ever had, and have 
at the t resent time, as good overseers, probably as 
can be found in any Factory in New England. 

There are but very few ever employed in the mill 
under 16 years of age; and there is not any who are 
unable to read or write. Two weeks notice of an 
intention to leave is always required by the over- 

I'Vom the Rural Rt-posllorjr. 

ET A. A. KOriBfS. • 

Frien iship ihey say is f»)se and vain. 

As f v;inc.scciit ag ilie dew, 
AikI tli;iii','ini,' OH the auluiiin's wwjd— 

Tli:il laiihlul frieiifls are scarce and ff-w— 
Thai when ihc heavens are femtiin? e'er u& 

And peace and hajjpjne-s are ours ' 
When Hope i;](rnics the path liefore'us. 

And [ileasure strews itiai paili wnh howerii 
T/icn friends in crowds will finck around ; ' 

15ut wiien mislorlune's winiis are siyliin'" 
And tlouils and slorins above us gallier, ' 

When Hope williii) our hearts i^ dying, 
2/(f n Iriends are no w liere to he found, 

fcjv/i!i as the winds away ihey fiee ! 

Before the lilasls o/ in:sei-y ! 

ll i nr.t'i.! ihoupl) wealih may take 

The eagle's winqs and soar away, 
Thou,h siekne-s « asle the bloom of health 

True (riend . hip never will (orsake us - ' 
"True I'ritnilshjp never wi'l decay ; 

Though scrrow's teni))e!.ts overioire us, 
An.i darkness dims hope's hriglilesl ray,' 

True tnendship Irinmphs over ail ; 
And we Icel nut (he Intteriiess, 
The pain<, ihe angnisli and divlress. 
Which those must led v. ho never knew, 
'I'hal friendship which is ever true. 

Lady! though scarcely known to ihee, 
Tliy friendship I wouhl gladly claim, 
'Twould chc-er life's weary pil2rinia''e ' 
_To knriw ihat thou wouldst lic the same 
TJiichaiisrin^ friend in weal or wo, 

In sorrow or prosperitv — 
Whelher inisforlune's hreezes blow. 
Or favoring fortune prospe.-s me. 
Be lliou 7)11/ friend and I'll he thine, 

Lon? as llie sun ol liie shall shirie. 
And when this iransini; life shall end. 
In hrigliler worlds Til he ihv friend- 
Where grief preys not upon "the heart 
And Iriends shall never, never part. 


r» — I'ERSOiN'S wishing 10 suhscribe for the Gar 
t I f LAND, should he sure to sul.scrihe to a re'^uJarlT 

ai>P""ii<'(I, amhorized Agent, whose name is° round 
puhlisned in thispaper. 

A G E°N T S . 

South Berwick— J. Colcoid. Esq. 

Kennehunk — Chai les Dres.=;er. 

Saco— Amos B. Keith, No. 25 Factorv Island. 

Miss Ann M. Gordon, No. 88 do. 
Saccarapjja— T. B. Edwards. 

New IIampshihe. 
New Market — N. H. Harvey, 47, Main street, and 
I\Ir. French, at Smith and Furber's 
Varietv Store. 
Dover— E. Wadleigh, No.'4 Marsion's New Block. 
Great Falls— J. A. ismilic. 
Piitsfield— E. C. Drew. 
Meredith Bride?— Oscar G. Swasev. 
Meredith Lake Village —Wm. Oilell. 
Gilnianlon Factory Village— Jnsiah F. Evans. 
Masliua & Nashville— Lamon Dale, and at Andrew E. 
Thajer's Book Slnre, Main Street Nashua. 

Newhuryport— H. T. Croloot, No. 3, Pleasant street. 
AmesLury.— D. Nason. 

Good Advice. — Shut your eyes to the faults of 
your neighbors, and open them very wide lo your 

When you encounter a young, pretty, accom- 
plished and modest-looking coquette, look to your- 
self and fly. You will be thawed, melted, annihi- 
lated before you know what youareabout. If you 
look twice, you are lost. There should be a law 
against them. They should be indicted and pun- 
ished — sweet thieves — beautiful highwaymen ! 
Lovely swindlers! 


JUST rrc( lv< c) l)v tlie snbscrilic r n lu w am! iid;(l aswrtm^il of 
GOODS, b> ins iln- lifsi .-issi.riin in < v. r In lore oHti-.-d to iliis public, 
«an,isiii:g in p irt (.i Silvt i-, T.-:i, T;.l)li , SiiKar .hikI Mnsianl Spooiis— 
Enunild, 1 u|):iz, Ganit^i, pluni mid cliasid Fiiu- Gold U.iiks— Fine 
GM Kiiolis ic Drops, r, Canii i.. Moorniiis;, Pl:iiii and CoininoD 
Di t:ist Pills— Gold and S.lvir Piiiiil Cnsrs, Gold N»cklaces & Cliains, 
Ciold & Plaitd Mliiiaiure Smiiig-s, Ciisr-s, * c. <fcc.— Also, all kir.ds of 
She ll and Horn l):!cl>, side & d ressiiig Combs, Toodi Bruslii's^^ Tooil* 
Powdi rs: ail kinds of CoIokio', Lavtiidtraiid Morida Wau r. Milk 
of Hoses and Crtani o( Lillis; also, :dl kinds uf ilair Oils, Bjl.n of 
Colnmbin, and pore 0\ Marrow (or i lie e-rowili and biaoiy cCilie 
Hair, losjeiliir «idi all kinds ofGucids UMially kepi in ajrwdrj and 
Fancy Gi<ods Store. Tlie above Gi ods are of ilic first qualiiy and 
warrai.led, and will be sold as low as can be buii),'lii < lse«lo l e. Ladies 
c.dl and see. D. M. Ol I.MBy, 

Febiuaiy 1, 1844. 21 Watfr street. 

Newbiu') Amesbury & Exeter. 

T EAVES Newliurjiiori Tor Amesbiin , Kensington, and Exeter er- 
ery Momla), Wednesday and Frulaj, on llie arrival of the 7 I-» 
o'clock train from Boston, and arrives in Exeter in season lo take 
llie cars for Newniarkei, Durham and Dover, and the stage for 
.Straihani, Greenland and Porisinoiiili. 

Leaves Exeter Tuesday. I In rsd iy and Saturday, on tlie arrival of 
the first train of ears from Porrlaiid, and (lie »i«ge from Porismonih, 
passing tliioiiijii the above named louns, and arrives in Nevvbury- 
pori in season lo take the cars for Ipswich, S.ik ni. and Dosioii. 

CZT i'^aie (ro;n Newbury pnri lo Exen r, 50 cents, lo Dover I,IS l-l 
Uouks kept at the Washington House, and the Merriniaek Houi« 
Newburvport— and at the Suuniicot House Exeter. 



Piib'ishfid at Exeter, N. H. on the 1st and 15tli of every month, at 50 cents per annum, payable half yearly in advance 


MARCH. 1 , 1844 

NUMBER 5. 1 

A. R UROWiV, Publisheran d Proprietcr 

Varii'itiinU -o ii •rini-.'itiirii sh-i ,hl he n-lilreis--l . 1,0 ,t t aid or free. 
Office at Wo. I5Waler st.-J. L. BECKETT, Printer. 
Post iinst. rs are a.,tliori7., d by l:iw to fraiiU Itu. rs coi.taiuiiiE 

inOll' y will II !• qursi tl 

ScUctea for a 3lal)»'^ SJHium. 

An Albani's a picture of life's earliest morning, 
WTiere nothing debasing shouli ever be trac3i. 

" Though many a joy arouiul you smile, 
Aud maiiya faithful fiKnid you meet, 
Anri love to chi-er life's dreary way, 

Aiui turn the liilier cup to sweet. 
Let m'iri )ry sorn times heat thee back 

To other days almost f >rg:ot, 
And when you Ihiuk of other friends 
That love thee well. Forget me not. 

It'j I'tfii ffir Ihe Cmlai.d. 



It is an acknowledged fact that, if not all 
persons in mis world are too much in a hurrij. Yet 
in all their transactions they hurry none so fast as 
GETTING MARRIED. Two-lhirds at least, of those 
who enter the married state, rush into it withoui 
once taking thought of the caies, anxieties and 
disappointments which are sure to acconip:iny it. 
Eitner they have not taken sumcieiii pains to eUu- 
eate themselves, or have been carried away by iheir 
own imagination, regardless of every thing except 
obtaining a husband. 

Such an one was my friend Nancy S . 

She wa5 a bright, beautiful creature, not far from 
nineteen years of age; the youngest, and conse- 
quently Xhe pelted one ol the whole family. She 
had been about a year in ane of the Mills on the 

Corporation in Lowell, and though apparently 

well contented, was ever on the race for a husband. 
If she attended a ball or party, it seemed to be the 
only wish of her heart that she should there meet 
•ome one who would be sufficiently captivated ei- 
ther by her personal beauty or pleasing conve'rsa- 
UOB, to make her a proposal of marriage. There 
was one circumstance which rendered "her single 
•ituation more irksome, perhaps, than it would 
otherwise have been; all her sisters were mar- 
ried, and pleasantly situated, and neither ofihem 
had reached her own age before marriage 

For about a year she had been on the watch for 
• husband. At first she would been unwil- 
^ng to wed one she could notjove ; but altera 
diort period came to the conclusion to take one 

till - b'e-ish should 

•itlach to his character. But a year had passed 

Wid neither o( these two h.^ a [ Passed, 
ance. *PPear- 

One -evening she attended a party civen bv n 
*read where she .et a young ge'tlelan ab ut e 
age. who was particularly attentive to her and 

Sh«t:r;^"^-^^ -dilygran.:^ : 
mmi Ux home. He visited her a few 

a id made her a proposal of marriage, which she 
accepted, without consulting her friends as to the 
propriety or impropriety of tlie measure. Her mo- 
ther was surprised when inl'ormed that she was so 
soon to be married, and inquired if she knew any 
tiling of tlie character of Mr. Leyden. " Why 1 
ihink he is a clever man, and am sure be looks pleas- 
ant." And on the strength of these qualifications 
she accepted and married him. He proved, how- 
ever, to be entirely a different man from what she 
thought, and his looks deceived her. 

She had been married but a few months, when 
she ascertfiined that her husband was a drunkard, 
and preferred the tavern, and tiie company of tip- 
plers, to his own home. She had never, till now, 
known aught of sorrow, and her proud spirit writh- 
ed beneath the disgrace to which she feared she 
should be suljented. For two years she remained 
with her husband — years of almost unceasing suf- 
fering; and when all hope of his retormation had 
vanished, she left him, and placing her young cliild 
under the care of her moilier; returned to her for- 
mer situation in the mill, with her spirit broken 
and health impaired. She oft repeats her story to 
her young friends, always cautioning them, when 
speaking ol marriage, not to be, as she has been, 
"too much in a hurry." 

/•'or tke Uarland. 



MrTho-.p5on, the father of Flora, lived in the 
eastern part of Maine, but for the benefit of his 
health moved into the interior. Young Flora 
thought it cruel to lake her from iier little friends 

and schoolmates, and carry her among strangers. 

Th?y however moved to a large town, where she 
had the privilege of a good school, and an opportu- 
nity of deliberately choosing new friends and ac- 
quaintances, Fiora had an amiable disposition, 
naturally, and the sweetness of her temper grew 
with her growth. She loved her brothers (ol whom 
she had several)— but her love for Edwin, her sec- 
ond brother, seemed to be greater than for the rest. 
Their love was mutual. They resembled each oih- 
er in features, but their dispositions were more a- 
like than their faces. 
A few years after Mr Thompson had settled in 

, a family by the name of Turner moved into 

"he neighborhood. The eldest son.Llewellyn, was 
a youth of eighteen, and an excellent young man. 
His figure was tall and manly, his hair auburn, and 
lay smoothly upon his snow-white forehead — a 
graceful smile played around his lips, that would 
have adorned the face of female beauty ; his eye 
blue and expressive, and in short his whole counte- 
nance a fair index ol his neble soul. He attended 
the same school with Flora and her brothers, and 
soon became familiar with the Thompsons, and 
particularly attached to Edwin. He beheld with] 
admiration the winning graces of the fond and 
confiding sister. He was soon the iotimate friend j 

of Edwin, and need we say the chosen one of Flora 
Thompson — it was even so. 

Cupid had wound his silken cords around their 
hearts, ere they seemed aware of his approach.~ 
But "the course of true love never yet ran smooth." 
For a while they might have been seen walking to- 
gether, on the pleasant moonlight evenings ofsum- 
mer, or sitting in some sequestered place. Of this 
pleasure they were soon deprived. Llewellyn'o 
health failed him, he could not expose himself to 
the evening air, and finally was obliged to visit the 
sea-shore to try the effect of salt water, and inhale 
the sea breezes. He returned in a few months ap- 
parently in good health, hoping soon to be wedded 
to her whose heart had long been his own. Ma- 
ny and happy were the hours they passed together 
during the winter. The spring advanced; but little 
did they dream the summer would pass ere they 
should be separated. It has been said that death 
loves a shining mark ; nor could he have culled a 
brighter one than the lovely Llewellyn. In the 
month ol May they walked together for the last, 
lime. Llewellyn felt that he had not long to 
remain on earth, and spoke of his premonitions to 
Flora. She was deeply affected. He supported 
her trembling frame in his arms, and imprinted a 
kiss upon her pale cheek, 

Llewellyn left home at the end of the month lo 
spend the summer, and in three weeks was brought 
back a corpse. When the news reached Flora, 
she fainted. At his funeral she appeared calm,' 
but when she came to take the last look of her be. 
loved Llewellyn, sobs came forth in spite of all her 
eff-orts to suppress them. Is it fancy, or do I really 
I see the almost brcken-hearted Fiora stand bending 
'over the lifeless form of her heart's delight ? her 
teais fast falling upon his cold pale face? The 
grave has hid him from her sight. Though many 
months have passed, she still cherishes his memo- 
ry, and when she looks on his miniature, she in- 
dulges in the melancholy train of feelings it call* 
to mind. 

She Ihmks of days and months now gone and past 

VVhen social love d,d ail the.r minds employ 
Such seasons then she e'en could wish might last 
And nought forever interrupt her joy. * 

But Ah! the scene is changed; those pleasin- day. 

Are passed and can no more return ' 

''itPu^f'"?"' °" broken spirit preys 
While she the loss of one Lelored doe: 

does mourn. 

The voice's now hushed in silence and in death. 

that once in music sweet hroke on her ear. 
feilent forever that melodious hrcalh 
And that sweet voice no more on earth she'll heat 

She appears at times, cheerful— but there i$ a 
blight in her heart. She would be without coia. 
fort in the world did she not hope to meet him ia » 
brighter world than this. How true it is that ' 
^ "If in our hearts we cherish 
55oine tender object there, 
'T^ doomed the first to perish ^ 

uioi >u fjerisii 

However bright and fair.*' ^ 
Exeter, Feb. 1844, 


Speak aotkiBg but what may benefit ot&ef«, n 
roureelf. Atrwd trifling conversaiiea. 

The Factory Girl's Garland 

1j V t r a c t s . 

"One of the cliicf sources from which woman 
derives her iiappiness, is the gratification of those 
tender sensibiiiiies with which slie is endowetl by 
nature. Her love, once placed on an oliject, is as 
immoveable as the insect which grows upon the 
rock, <inu dies in its struggle to maintain its hold. 
It is this tendencj', deep and true, of \voman'> 
heart, to place her happiness in the inner world ol' 
sentiment and feeling, whi.-h makts the religion 
of tlie Suvior so necessary to her erjoynient, as 
well as improvement. Her duties re(|uire that she 
should cultivate a pious spirit. The excellencies 
of her character cannot be developed without thid 
holy influence. The beauty of her person, even, 
is Vtry greatly dependant on the cultivation of her 
religious sensibilities. Mrs. Hale. 

"It is in life as in the winding of a skein ol silk ; 
the thread now reels oif smoothly, and anon is full 
of knots and tangles, which fret the temper, and 
weary out the patience, 

''Every youthful heart, which in i's first flush of 
hope would claep the world to its bosom, finds that 
it clasps a cold mailed body — and when it has run 
its gauntlet, turns and asks what is good. "Our |j 
forms," says the world, and fo.- the sake of peace 
it consents, to them, leaving new notions to those 
who come alter." 

"Those women who are the most delicately or- 
ganized, are the most averse to inflicting pains. — 
Pity is but a sensitiveness createJ by an imaginary 
change of situations, and the more powerful the 
imagination, the more powerful the sense. Per- 
sons who are ticklish themselves, will not tickle 
Others; ljut those who cannot imagine this convul- 
sed tintillation of the nervous system, find great 
amusement in pointing their fingers at those who 
are sensi'ive."' 

"How universally anxious are iriankind to snatch 
an intimation of the future out of the passing facts 
of the present ; and how often willing that chance 
should decide matters, when reason and judgment 
are wavering. 

"Those only are certain of success, who laying 
aside all the restraints of pride and prejudice will 
Stoop to plant, ere they climb to reach the Iruits." 

The less notice we take of the unkindness and 
injuries, that are done us, the more we consult the 
quiet of our minds. 

Let us take great care we do not concern and 
busy ourselves loo much with what others say and 
do,~and that we let it not too much into our minds, 
for it is a great cause and source of disturbance. 

Good-humor is the clear blue sky of the soul, cn 
which every star of talent will shine more clearly, 
and the sun of genius encounter no vapors in his 
passage. 'Tis the hiost exquisite beauty of a fine 
face — a redeeq^ing grace in a homely one. It is 
like the green in a landscape, harmonizing with 
every color, mellowing the glories o( the bright, 
and softeoiog the hue of the dark. 

E X E T li H, MARCH 1 , 1844. 

fj" There has been quite an excitement ain'Mi^ the ope- 
ratives in IMeihuen. A yniiiig lady had called (or the 
purpose of secng some friends who worked in one of ibo 
rooms, and was ordered out hy a walchman. She left ihe 
room, and her friends wiih her, and on going out met ihe 
overseer, who gave ihe visitor peiinission to return again 
to the room. The overseer went oin, and the rufRanlj 
watchman, ihoii'^h repeatedly mlorined llial she had ih.' 
permission of the overseer, seized llic girl, and pll^hl■ll her 
ouToi doors, knocking down (he two others, who had laken 
hold of ht r to ))revenl her tall ng. The girls cinpluyed in 
the room went immediately to the Agent, with a request thai 
the watchman be dischamed, as tliey were unwrllmg to re- 
turn to work unless some assurance wis sriven liial they 
would 1 ol be subject to like treainienl. The agent would 
not discharge tlie watchman, and Uie girls left. Their wages 
were refused bj the Agent, and they cmplojed a lawyer to 
CO lect them, by liringing suils against the Company. The 
agent, finding thai the girls had ioo much independence and 
good sense to be imposed upon, concluded to settle with 
them. A prosecution was then commenced against Strick- 
land, the watchman, lor an assault, and his trial was to 
lake place last Saturday. We hope he will be made 
to feel that ihnugli a walchman in a mil] may have duties 
to perform, there are laws which will protect females from 
iheir bruial assaults. 

Ij" How little attenliou is paid to llie study of manliind 
and how very little is learned Irom oliservation. Though 
the study of books is of incakulalile advantage, yet how 
much more would mankind be profiled if ihey would study 
each oMkt -leara Irom oh^ervati•.n, and be warned ol llie 
danger ol lollovi'ing bad examples by the late of ihose who 
have been the victims ol their own folly. What a vast 
ainounl ol sorrow would be prevented ? What an age ol 
crime would be saved ? Let ns then study the charac- 
ter ol those with whom we associate, and endeavor, from 
our observation of oihcrs,to bem fil ourselves. 

Lowell. We paid a visit to this city the last week, for 
the purpose of soliciting subscrip'ious, and making ar- 
rangements lor introducing our paper, and were highly grat- 
ified wilh our visit. We were admilled into the Carpel 
Factory, and shown soine fine specimens of carpeting, and 
a number of beaulilnl rugs, manulactured at ihis establish- 
ment. This company are about to dispense with their hand 
looms, and introduce power-looms Tlie manner ol weaving 
j! carpets always seemed mysterious to us, and we are nor 
\'\ now sufficiently enlightened to explain it to our readers.— 
We also visited the Print Works anil some of the cotton 
Mills on ihe Hamilton, and some of the Mills on the Boon 
and Massachusetts Corporations. The Mills in Lnwell are 
n'<w all running, and anolher of a Uige size, is to be erected 
the coming season. 

An exchange paper says. — •' Young ladies who read the 
newspapers, are always observed to jiossess winning ways, 
most amiable dispositions, and invariably make good house- 

A great grumbler grumbles at every person save one, and 
that one happens to deserve il most — it is himself. 

Od-There is much irulli in the following, which we find 
in one of our exchanges :— "Children wliea young tread on 
the toes of their parents ; when old on their hearts." 

The Flower Vase f containing the Lan^iiage of Flowers 
and ihoir Poetic Sciuunenls ; by Miss S. C. Edgabton. 
Lowell: Powers & Bagley; Boston: B. B. Mussey. 

This is one ol the most beautiful little works we have 
ever seen. The sentiments are from the pens of some of 
our best poets, and are mostly original. The botanic name 
and classification of ihe flowers are given. It is printed in 
Dickinson's best style, and should be in the bauds of every 
young lady. 


From the Middlesex \Vj.» hi^lonlaii, puOHs/icd al Loieell, 

The Factory Girl's Oarlasd. We have received the 
fir-t three nnmbprs o) a senii-monihly sheet, wiih the above 
lit'e; published at Exeter. N. H ,«t30 cents, per annum, 
)):iy d)!e half yearly in ailvaiice. Il is ilcvoie I lo the irileresi 
(il leniale opFralives and tin- promiik'alio i of virtuous prill- 
< 'ples and ^onIlf'■ moi:ils. Its pdilnrials are well wriil'-n,and 
its selectinns in gnnd taste We hcariily commend il l" the 
aitcniioii ol that class lo whose iiiiTest il is particularlj 
devoted, and to llie ladies in gfiiera'. 

Prom the GIfnner. published at Mnnchestcr, N. H. 
The Factory Girl's Garland. — This is rhe lille of a 
neat I. ilk- xmi nionlhly paper publisfn d at f-2x'>ter N. H., 
by Mr. IVown. — Terms 50ceiils. This papi-r ue would re- 
coivmend lo llie operatives as worthy o) pairon.i2'' — il ad- 
vocates the interests of llie l ilmrcr and is a chaminon in the 
can.-p ol Equal Rigfhis We are pleased lo learn thai Mr. 
Di-arborn, the asent who ha-^ recently visned this place, has 
obiainerl nearly one hundred subserilicrs. Succers to all 
such nobl ' enterprises. 

Prom the Vinitor. pvblished at Deter. N. U. 
The' FACTORV Girl's Garland," is the name of a small 
sized semi iiionlhh slnrl, ))>iblisl:ed at Kx' li r, N. 
50 ' e us 1 e- annum, .1 L.l'ec kei t, Printer. Aillioiigli a small 
sheet it • onl^ ins much gt'od reading. We wish it success. 

From the Operative, publhhed at Manchester, N. H. 
We have received twf. or three numbe-s of ihe Factory 
Girl's Garland ^ small sheet pul)li>.lied at Exeter, N. H. 
May il subserve the cause of the laliorer. 

Prom the O'lre Branch, published at Boston, Mass. 

The Factory Girl's Garland. A snia I sized semi- 
mi iilhly sheet, wiih ibis life, is published at Ex< ter N. H. 
J L. H. ckeli Printer, ai 50 tents per year. Il appear* 
well, and we hope il will live. 

beauty is vain. 
Seek for beauty il thou wilt, 
Put mark the quality : not thai which shines 
From human face divine, and gains applause 
From gaping starers — that which fi ols admire, 
And seek no other— but that higher kind 
Which earth not only approbates, but heaven ; 
Pure, bright, celestial ! Beauty of the soul — 
Beauty OF Holiness ! J.G.Adams. 

THE LOWELL kaptortes. 
We gather the following statistical information from the 
New Vork Tribune. It will lie observed that the editor, 
though a particular friend of~Corporations, thinks the aver- 
age hours of labor loo uinch ; and, in this respect the con- 
dilion ol the operatives might be improved. We think sp 
loo, and hope the day is not far distant when such au im- 
provement will take place. 

"There ar? eleven regular Manufacturing Com- 
panies in Lowell, including the 'Locks and Canals,' 
or water-privilege Company, which was created in 
1792, but did not commence ojierations till 1S22, 
which may be regarded as the year of the foundation 
of Lowell. Before that time, il was a rugged, rocky, 
barren spot, inhabited by two or three families of 
boatmen and fisheimen, and not worth ten dollars 
per acre, including every thing upon it. The Mer- 
rimack Company commenced business the next 
year, and no other until the Tariff of 1624 was pass- 
ed. In 1S25, the Hamilton Company started; in 
1828, the Appleton alid Lowell ; in 1830, the Mid- 
dlesex ; in 1832, the Suffolk and Treniont; in 1833, 
the Lawrence; in 1836 the Booit, and in 1840, the 
Massachusetts, being the last. These eleven com- 
panies employ an aggregate capital of $10,700,000, 
employing 6,295 females and 2,345 males. 

The ten piincipal Manufactories already desig- 
nated, have 33 Mills, beside print works, run 6,194 
Looms, and 201,076 Spindles, producing 1,425,800 
yards of Clolh per week, or 74,141,600 within the 
year 1843. The Cotton fabricated by ibetn during 
the year was 22,880,000 lbs. (A pound of Cotton 
will average 3 1-5 yards of Clolh; 100 pounds of 
Cotton will make 89 lbs. of Cloth.) A loom will 
average, on No. 14 yarn 44 yards of Clolh per day; 

The Facto y Girl's C a r 1 a n d 

orNo. 30, 30 yards. Of i-rinled Cloths, 273,000 
yards per week are made by llie Merrimack and 
Hamilton Companies. Tlie Middlesex makes 9,000 
yards of Cissimeres, 1,800 of Broadcloths per week, 
using l,OrO,000 pounds of Wool and 3,000,000 Ihs. 
Teasels per annum. The Lowell makes 2,500 
yards of Carpets, and 150 of Rugs per week, beside 
85,000 ot Cottons. Flannels are ma le at the Ham- 
ilton, Slieetini^s and Siiir'ings at nearly all, with 
Drillings, Printing Cloths, &c. at several. 

"The average wage« paid to the females, young 
and old, experienced and inexperienced, i.3 $1,75 
per week beyond the cost ol hoard; to Males, $4 20 
per week, nr about S18 per (nonlli beyond the cost 
of their lio ud. The payments are all made in 
cash, amounting to ^1C0,000 per month. We 
challenge the wide world to produce, out of the 
Man uf.iCiu ring Districts of our own Country, a re- 
gion wherein Fetn \le Labor is so bounteously em- 
ployed and is paid at an average of $7 50 per month 
beyond the cost of board. And we challenge this 
or any other country to produce a section in which 
Women u ho work for their living are more inielli- 
genl, lieiier educated, more virtuous, more religous 
and independent than those employed in the Low- 
ell Manufactories, There have been most shame- 
ful slandeis circulated with regard to them which 
ought to be put down. In the infancy of these es- 
tablishments some females of bad character obtain- 
ed eniployment there, thiougb deception; but thete 
were s|ieediiy delected and expelleii; and now, il 
one of bad character is discovered there, she is le- 
quirtd to leave directly, as the others will not en- 
dure the association of vice. No where is tbeie 
a more correct and vigorous moral sent'tiient than 
among these industrious and independent Wo-| 

itart in life. She spends some weeks or months 
of every year under her father's roof, and generally 
marries and settles in its vicinity. Many attend 
Lectures and evening schools after the day's work 
IS over, and of the six thousand, n ore than half 
regularly occupy and pay lor seats in the numerous 
Churches of Lowell. No where is the Sabbath 
better observed, or the proportion of habitual church- 
goers greater than in that thriving city, hardly any 
where is temperance more general, or are viola- 
tions of the law less frequent. Six out of ten of 
the Females and a full half of the Males enjoy 
better health in the Mills than they did before com- 
ing thee. 

"Six of the Mills are warmed by steam, only 
two by hot air, and three by steam and hot air to- 
gether. The annual consumption of Wood there 
is 3,290 cords; of Anthracite Coal, 12,500 tons; of 
0(1,67,356 gallons; 600,000 bushels ..f Charconl 
were used in 1843, and 4,000 barrels of Flour for 
Starch alone. 'I'he Locks and Canals Company 
use 1,225 tons of Iron jier annum; will put up and 
furnish a factory of 5,000 spindles complete in four 
months, and employ when building, 1,000 to 1,200 

"Such are some of the statistics of the chief man- 
ufactoring town in America, As a specimen of 
regulated, systemized, well-directed Industry, it is 
worthy of study. 

We rejoice in being able to state that the work- 
ing men and women of Lowell have very large 
and general deposiies in the Savings Bank of that 
place, anil that they are becoming large owners of 
Stocks in the Corporation lor wiiich they work. — 
In one alrea''y to the extent of $100,000, in another 
to the amount of $GO,100, &c. &c. 

"As to the alleged hardship of factory labor, we 
have no doubc that its condition might be improv- 
ed. We believe the average hours ol labor are 
12 1-2 per day, which is loo much lor an employ- 
ment which is pursued the year round. It dots 
not al'.ow time enough for reading, study, attend- 
ing lectures, and other means of moral and intel- 
lectual improvement. But, on the other band, it 
must be considered thai the labor is very light; 
that many pursue it for l ours together with an op- 
en book before them, reading half the time; and 
that all g-eaily prefer it to any other field of indus- 
try. You can hardly induce an American girl at 
the Eastward to do housework for her own family 
or for the sick; the large majority would prefer 
working in a factory for one dollar and filty cents 
per week to doing housework for $2 00. And the 
establishment of manufactories has to our certain 
knowledge, more than doubled the average recom- 
pense accorded to Female Labor throughout the j 
Manufacturing region, while greatly retlucing the! 
price of every thing a woman buys. Beside thjs, ] 
the treatment of females who do housework has 
greatly improved since the factories were started. — 
No woman of sense or spirit will now submit to 
humiliations which were common there twenty 
years ago, (and which are common here now,) be- 
cause she knows where she may at any time go to 
avoid them. 

The American factory girl is generally the daugh- 
ter of a farmer, has had a common education at 
the district school, and has gone into the factory for 
a few seasons to acquire a little something lor a 


I love to be called an American, I love to speak j 
of her independence, her resources, and her public 
institutions; her lofty eminence in literature, her i 
greatness, and her ascendant glory ; but more than j 
these, I love to speak of her social attributes, her ; 
home characteristics, and her fireside endearments. ! 


The mind of the young is susceptible of any im- 
pressions. It is like a mirror reflecting whatever 
is set before it. Take the example ot a child; let 
a person who has any influence over chiKlren, and 
those who have social intercourse with them, do 
any thing that is wrong, or speak harsh words, and" 
it will impress itself so strongly upon the tender 
mind, that days, months, and even ye<trs, will not 
eradicate it, A moral education is far superior to 
an intellectual one in promoting happiness; but if 
a person can possess both, lie will find much great- 
er e:tjoyment than can be experienced in either 

God has implanted in our minds principles to 
aid us in acqiiiing both a moral and intellec- 
tual education ; audit is therefore necessary that 
the early teaching be correct, for nothing is 
truer than the old adage, "As the twig is bent, the 
tree is inclined." M. 

Written , for the Garland. 
The desire for joy is an innate ni incij le in man 
ever ruling, ever directing his course tlirough life. 
By him no difficulty is too great to be removed ia 
the attainment of this object. He will toil day af- 
ter day, and night alter night, in order to gaia 
wealth, which, perchance in his opinion is the key 
that will open to him the secret fountains of joy, at 
which he may drink and be satisfied, and which, he 
thinks, will am])ly reward him lor hislabor. But 
when he finds riches are in his possession, he feels 
there is a void within, which the world can never 
fill or help in any manner to satisfy the cravings 
ol an immortal mind. His heart is desolate, for 
joy is not there to cheer him on his pilgrimage 
tbroui;h this life and point him to another world. — 
Some who have gone before us have followed that 
Course, w hicli if rightly pursued, will unlock to us 
those hidden treasures wliich flow from the pure 
fountain of eternal joy. They were not guided by 
earthly desires and tollies, but they looked above 
the world and sought that heavenly joy which they 
knew to be lasting, for it proceeded from a higher 

The last of these I ever contemplate with the !i ^oi,rce than that of earth. Often, very often do we 

greatest plensure. They are hallowed in my own 
memory by a thousand hap,)y associations. Our 
American firesides are all our own ; there is noth- 
ing like them to be found elsewhere. They are the 
peculiar boon of every family, be their condition 
what it may. To the poor they are especially so. 
I'he happiness tiiey there enjoy with their own 
families and friends, animates their labors during 
the day, and makes every toil seem lighter. 

Will the reader in imagination visit older coun- 
tries than outs— reflect on the condition of kings 
in their palaces, and of nobles in their castles — 
study domestic cliaracter under every variety of 
circumstance; yet then must the eye be turned 
to our own land for the happiest pictures of all 
earthly pleasures, the circ'es around our own hearih- 
stones, Heke are found the nurseries of our piety, 
the first breathings of our greatness and glory, and 
the first aspirations of our free-born inhabitants 
for all that is lofty and virtuous in man. And long 
may they continue, as they now are, the happy 
gathering places of friends, the long remembered 
resorts of strangers ; rearing the young for useful- 
ness, and cheering the hearts of the aged in their 
passage dowtt to the grave, m. 

possess mistaken views of worldly joy; often whea 
we have been engaged in the pleasant and attrac- 
tive scenes of earih do we imagine such pleasuies 
to be real, but, when by some unexpected event 
those objects which constituteJ our greatest felici- 
ty are severed from us, then our minds become 
changed, our ideas are altogether altered and we 
find the joys of earth are transitory, and ere we se- 
cure them flee from our grasp. But if we compare 
the uncertain pleasures of this world to the eternal 
joys of heaven, we find that earthly things fade, for 
we see that even in animated nature they grow 
old and die. The firmest work of man gradually 
decays. Years as they rolf round teach us of the 
consummation of all things; we see one friend after 
another snatched from us by the hand of death and 
laid in the grave, showing us that we shall be also 
changed. The heart sinks under such observa- 
tions and we must needs look beyond the earth for 
joy, and where do we find it? where btitm heaven? 
there do we find that happiness both sure and stead- 
fast — and in order to secure those heavenly joys, we 
must lightly esteem those we call the joys of earth 
and use them to prepare us for the nobler ones of 
heaven. Lurana. 

The Factory Girl's Garland 

For the Garland. 

It was a stormy day in Fel ruary, when llirough indisj n 
sition_eoDfiiied to my house, I beheld from the window ihe 
nodding hearse, slowly moving toward the Cemetery, (ol- 
lowed liy a train of bereaved and mourning friends. That 
hearse contained the earthly remains ot my cou>in, about to 
be consigned to the dark and lonely grave. She was about 
thirty years of ajre, and, till within a very (ew months, had 
approached as nearly to the "picture ol healih" as any per- 
son in the circle ot ray acquaintance. She had three sisitrs- 
end two Iiroihers, but no one ol lliein bid fairer to enjoy 
Jong life than slie. 

She had become a wife and a mother, and in the domestic 
circle was a model ot ncain<ss and good order. While 
laithfully discharging the duties ol her station, she was not 
forgetful of her f iiure and iiiimorlal interests. During a 
tCTival in the place, some few years since, she became a 
hopeful subject of redeeming grace. 

Surrounded by her lamily connexions, and enjoying Ihe 
society of her husband and three little children, 5.he was 
probably indulging many pleasing dreams ol sublunary 
blisa. But iu the midst of all her enjoyments, that insidi- 
008 and most illusive ol all diseases, consumption, began to 
prey upon her health, and so slily and yet so surely did the 
work progress, that ere she or her friends had become aware 
of her danger, her destiny was inevitably fixed, and all the 
efforts ol medical skill, and the alteiuion and sympathy ol 
affeclioD were utterly abortive. When past recovery til 
eyes were open to see her approaching dissolution. The 
tender fibres of afTeclioii began to rend — the tear gathered 
in the parent's ej'e, and each heart fell that a solemn sepa- 
nttioD was at hand. 

As the symptoms ol her disease became more strongly 
marked, and her languishing health admonished her that 
death bad selected Iter as his victim, she undoubtedly had 
a hard struggle. Nature clung to lite and lriends,'and the 
deu objects of time. Bui i( the struggle was severe, the 
tssoe was glorious. Grace triumphed. Her happy spirit, 
Tcposing upon the bosom of lier Savior, felt every earthly 
tie sweetly dissolved,and saw through the telescope ol laith, 

" Thai land of pure delight, 

\\ here saints iiiiinonul reign, 
Eternal day excludes llie inglit. 
And pleasures banish pain." 

The vision was soul ravishing, and cheerfully resigning 
her companion, with the pledges ol the r mutual love, and 
every earthly friend lo the care of a gracious Providence, 
and bidding adieu lo earth, she "fell asleep in Christ." 

How swiftly our jears By away ! How short the passage 
Irom the craule to ihe grave ! How Iransienl all our sublu- 
nary bliss! How much we have to do, and how little time 
to accomplish .so vast a work. Still we have sufficient time 
allotted us, il il be wisely improved. Even those lor whose 
beaefil the " Garland" is designed, though enjoying less 
leisure than many other classes of commuuiiy, have the 
raeaus of grace, and sufiicieul lime to "^make their calling 
aad eleciiou sure." 

Let them, like my cousin, "remember their Creator," and 
" lay up treasure in heaven." 'i heu when fierce disease 
and grim deatli shall come, like her they will meet their 
djs&olulion wuh tranquillity, and uliimaiely share with all 
^he redeemed in the triumphs of "Him who loved the church 
■ad gate himself for it." E . 

Filial Love. — li is luentioiied by Mis.s Pardoe, 
lhai a "bciiutiful feature in ilie character of Turks, 
is tevereoce for tlie nioiher. Their wives may ad- 
Ttse- or reprimand uniieeded, but ilieir mother is an 
oracle, consulied, confided in, lislened to wiih re- 
spect or deferetice, lionored lo the latest hour, and 
remembered with affectioQ and regard even beyond 
the grave." "\V ives may die," say they, "and we 
Can replace them, children rnay jierish, and others 
laaf be born to ust, but who shall restore the motfi- 
er when she passes away, and is seen no more. 

" Keep IT BEFORK THE People." That it is less 
daDgeruud tu slip with the foot than with the tonguC' 

" What a bleasing to woman «re the daily duties 
•ad lessvr cures of lifti I What a defence againut 
tctuputiun and evil Uioughla. W bat aa aid ia reiist- 
iog afflicuoo." 

"I hear thee speak of ilie belter Ian I, 
Tliini callest Us children a happy band; 
IMoiher' where is 'hat radiem shore? 
Shall we mil seek it and weep no more? 
Is It where the llower of the orange I/lows, 
And the fire flies glance llirnuih the myrlle bonghsl' 
"i\ol there, nol llitre, my child." 

"Is it where the feathery palm trees rise, 
And the dale grows ripe m-dcr sunny skies? 
Or 'midst I be green Islands of gli tiering seas, 
H here Iragi jni forests perfume the breeze, 
And slriinge, bri!,'lit birds, on iheir s:arry wings, 
Bear the rich hues of all glorious tilings?" 

Nut there, not there, niy child." 

"I<: it far away in some region old, 
Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold? 
\\ here ihe burning rays of llie ruby shine, 
And I he diamond lighisup the seei-e' mine, 
And ihe pi arl gleams forth from the coral strand; 
Is It there, sweet mother, that lielter land?" 

"Nol there, not there, my child." 

"Eye h:ilh nol seen it, my gentle boy, 
E;>r hath not henrd ils di pp songs ol joy; 
Dreams cannot piclure a world so lair — 
Sorrow and death may not enter there; 
'lime dolli not brcalhe on its faileless bloom! 
Beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb;" 

" Il is ihere, it is there, my child!" 

Be kind to each other! 

The night's coming on. 
When friend and when brother 

Perchance may begoind 
Th^'i), 'midsl our dijeclion, 

How sweet to have earned 
The blesl recollection. 

Of, kindness,— returned! 

When day hath deparied, 

And memory keeps 
Her watch, br' ken-hearted, 

Where all she loved sleeps, 
Let falsehood assail nol, 

Noreiivv disprove, — 
Lei Infles prevail iioi. 

Against those ye love. 

Nor change with to-morrow, 

Should fortune take wing, 
But the deeper the s rrow, 

The closer still cling! 
O, be kind lo each o:her. 

The night's coming on. 
When Irieiid and when brother 

Berchanre may be goue! 

When the flowers of Friendshii; or Love have decayed. 
In the bean that has trusted and once been betrayed, 
No suns-bme of kindness their bloom can lesloie; 
For the verdure ol leelmg wiil quicken no more ! 

Hope che;ited loo often, when life s in its spring, 
From the bosom that nursed il forever lakes wing I 
And Memory comes; as its promises fade, 
To brood o'er the havo:. thai Passion has made. 

As it's said that ihe swallow the tenement leaves 
Where ruin endang rs her nesl in the eaves, 
While the desolate owl lakes her place on the wall, 
And builds in the mansinn that nods lo ils fall. 

Human Nature. — Instead of alleviating the sorrows of 
others, and laboring to make their path more pleasant, there 
is a disposition too prevalent, lo make mankind miserable 
and unhappy. Let a word be lisped lo the discredit of an 
individual, and it will be repeated a hundred times, with 
variations and amendments, and come lo his ears times 
without number, lo give him pain and sorrow. A good deed 
is always told in a whisper and in private, while a bad one 
is proclaimed with a trumpet from the house-tops. Did we 
realize our own pioneness to err, how much more careful 
should we be of ihe reputation of our neighbors. We know 
the sorrow and grief occasioned by having our own failings 
spread abroad, and what pains we lake lo hush up our own 
lollies; and why should we not conceal the laulls of our 
neighbors? If we possess real kindness and benevolence in 
our hearts, we shall be slew lo speak of another's lailiugs, 
but use our eudeavors to hide ibem from the world. 

"The generous heart, 
Should scorn a pleasure which gives others pain." 

Though il may please you and a few others to detect the 
faults of a neighbor, remember it jives him pain, and cease 
Irom your unrighteous work. Do good and not evil, and 
you will promote your own bappiucM and the happiness oi 
others.— /'pr/Zonrf Tribtme. Q £ . C • 


To AoEsrs.— Our list has iiecome so large in many pi*, 
ees, thai il is a great amount of li,(,„r to mark everv p.-Tiwr 
wuh Ihe name ..llhe subscriber. Ii is unooubiFdly very 
iriMibli-some for our aijenls to handle over ihe «bo!e in or- 
der lo finri llie paper wanted. To remedy tins inconvenience 
we have tins week copied our list in each of ibe large places 
iiilo a siiihII memorandum, which we sliall send 'with this 
niiniber to the Aijenis, wlui can refer lo it when in doubt as 
lo llie name ot a siibscriljer. Agents are riqiie.-led, when 
iliey send ii> new subscribers, to euler them aNo upon their 
lists, that at all limes ihf ir list and nnrs may agree. 

There are many people, whose wliole wisdom 
consists in hiding ilieir ol it. 

A more slorious "iciory cannot be cained ovef 
an»/ilier man than this, liiai when the injurv beijan 
on lii.s part' the kindness sliould begin on that of 

Woman. — A man in a furious passion is terrible 
to his enemies, but a woman in a passion is di:?ust- 
ins to her Iriends; she looses llie res| cci due to her 
sex, ;.nd she has not masculine sirensih and cour- 
age to eiilorce any other species ofrejpect. 

Look at llie brislil .'■ky! How pure? Shall not 
your heart eaich the reflection? Out with all im- 
pure iliou^lils, reveii£;erul leeliti^s, passionate desires 
and harbor iKitliing witl>in that has a tendency to 
destroy ilie piiriiy of your n iiure, or retard tb» 
progress of pure and iiuderiled reii:iion. 

New Hampshire. 

South New Market. ■ J W. Nf'al, Harrison .Speed, Jo- 
sia'i Siiutn Clark. 2.5 cts each. 

New- Market.- l\lary A. Vork. Mary G. Yeaion, Abigail 
Mufshall, 25 c.s CMch. 

Nashua & Nashri/le.—'MTS. Olive Clark, Martin L. 
Blood, Sarah Hardy, 25 els. each. 


Ncwburyport. — Hannah Chase. .Sarah A.Brewster, Elia- 
aoelh Waison, Sarah H Gould, Elizabelh C. Sargeaol 
Mary T. While, Lucy Snow, James H. Hall, Atil.y 'Lan<» Ann Winze , Mary A. Li.liefield, Stephen R. Fox Jr.' 
25 cts each. 

Ainesburij .l/(7/s.— Emily Patten. 2r, cts. 

West Neiohunj — John M F<.IIa..^i.o«, Uutler A. FoIUac 
liee, 5U CIS. e cn. 

Aoicert. — Betsey Lane. 50 cents. Polly Willard, Nancy 
Sieveiis, Mary Ann Thomas, Hannah J. Emerson, Calis- 
ta A. Easiman, Jane Fid-oin, Blary Woo.lward 25 cts. 
each. John VV D.ivis, SI, 00. 

r-i — —"3 I'iiRSONS WL-hiiig to subscribe for the Gab- 
I [ j LAND, should be sure lo subscribe to a regularly 
appointed aiiiliorized Agent, whose name is iouod- 
published lu ihispaTJer. 

A G e'n T S . 

Charles C. Deabbobn, & E. G. Judkins Travellinf 

South Berwick— J. Colcord, Esq. 

Keniiebunk — Chai les Dresser. 

Saco— Amos B. Keiih, No. 23 Factory Island. 

Miss Ann M. Gordon, No. SS do. 
Saccarappa— T. B. Edwards. 

New Hampshibe. 
Manchester— D. P. Perkins, 43 Elm street. 
Amo~keag— D. J. Daniels- 

Hooksei— Hiram Forsailh, at D J. Daniels' store. 
New Market — N. H. Harvey, 47, Main street, and 

j\Ir. French, at Smith and Furber"* 

Variety Store. 
Dover— E. Wadleigh, No. 4 Marsion's New Block. 
Great Falls— J. A. Smilie. 
Piilsfield— E. C. Drew* 
Meredith Bridge— Oscar G. Swasev. 
Meredith Lake Village -Wm. Odell. 
Gilmanlon Factory Village— Jnsiah F. Evans. 
Mas lua & Nashville— Lainon Dale, and at Andrew E. 
Thayer's Book Store, Main Street Nashua. 
Lowell- Powers cf- Uagley, Central street, J. W. Davis 

5 John street, and David J. Young 88 

on the Lawrence Corporation. 
Newhuryport— H. T. Crolool, No. 3, Pleasaiit street- 
Amesbury. — D. Nason. 
Melhuen — White & Dearborn. 

Cheap Cash Dry Coods Store. 

AMOS B. KEITH, has constantly on hand a large vari- 
ety ot Rich Staple and Fancy Dry Good's. All kinds 
of Dress and Cloak Goods, Shawls, Ribbons, Laces of all 
kinds, styles and prices, CraTats, Hosiery, Gloves, ttc. tm, 
whicb will be sold at the very lowest prices lor cash. 

No 2i Factory l«laud, Saco Ma.